Eskimo Food

I have been having an unbelievable summer. One of only a few over the years without classes or workshops. Tons of time in the mountains and on the water. Feels so damn good.

I usually don't write until I get back, but I'm going to make an exception for eskimo food. You read it right, if anyone else reads this.

Been in Nome visiting Doug and Dar. Dar's dad sent her a care package filled with smoked fish, dried fish, seal blubber, and walrus flipper. Got to try them all. The smoked fish was familiar, of coarse. Still not sure what kind of fish it is. The dried pink salmon is also good. The flipper was really rubbery with kind of a sweetish taste, unlike anything I've ever eaten before. The seal blubber had a texture like a raw oyster, but the saste was STRONG! Still can't begin to describe it. Dar warned us that the Dr. Pepper we tried to wash it down with would taste differently after eating eskimo food, and she was right. The blubber will take some getting used to.

About Bears

It's said that a bear's nose is a thousand times more sensitive than a human's. The bear follows this nose. He wanders. Sometimes his nose takes him where he wants, where the salmon are spawning or where the huckleberries are sweet. Sometimes the wind shifts, his nose betrays him and he is surprised. What then?

Finding Forrester

Watched Finding Forrester again tonight for about the dozenth time. It's just a flat-out quality film. One of my top three. What do all three have in common? No sequels. The best line from the movie? "I'm that one." You'll have to see it to make sense.

Outdoor Camp Revisited

Returned from two weeks fishing and helping out at a remote fishing lodge in Northern B.C.
My friend, Hannah, and her mom, Alice own and operate this wilderness retreat. From here, it takes 13 and 1/2 hours driving, then an hour flight in an Otter float plane. It's worth the commute.

During the fall of my senior year of high school, I decided to get out of class for a week by volunteering as a camp counselor at the outdoor school run by our school district. This decision eventually became life-changing. What started as a way to get out of class and be outdoors for five days became more about working with kids and what deep-down I had to offer them. That week led to two more weeks in the spring, and later, an invitation to do similar work during that summer for the Boys and girls Clubs. These camp sessions led eventually to working and running outdoor education camps for three other school districts.

The outdoor camp experience was magical. For five days, we would leave life's trials and tribulations behind and enter a world all our own. Working to give those kids the best time possible with fun-loving, like-minded people in the outdoors created a euphoric experience never to be forgotten. It also created a light-hearted and heavy-hearted feeling when the week came to a close. Light-hearted because of new friendships made as well as the promise of something more with the cute counselor I'd been flirting with that week. Heavy-hearted because of the inevitable return to "reality." Every one of those weeks at camp turned out to be a growing experience in many ways.

These outdoor camps were life-changing in that they gave me the social confidence I had previously lacked. Finding out what you are good at and being recognized for your competence is something we all strive for not only in our youth but all throughout life. Also, these same experiences were life-changing because they ultimately led to choosing a teaching career. Sometimes I curse this choice, but for the majority of the time, it's been beyond worthwhile.

These last two weeks spent in the wilds of B.C. were, in a way, like a camp for grown-ups. Or semi grown-ups in our case. The work was challenging at times, the fishing was exciting at times, but what made it all so memorable was the camaraderie. The time spent with Hannah, Alice, Clint, Aileen, Tony, Dan, and Christina created a world I hadn't been a part of since those early camp days.

Now, I don't mean to belittle what Hannah and Alice have going. My escape is their reality, and they are very good at what they do. Extremely good. They run one of the world's premier steelhead fly-fishing destinations. People who have the means to fish anywhere in the world return year after year to experience not only the fishing but the hospitality Hannah and her mom create.

My role the past two weeks was to help them prepare for their upcoming season. But in the process, we managed to have an unforgettable time, and I managed to come away with that light-hearted, heavy-hearted feeling again. Light-hearted from making new friends, losing ten pounds, and getting back strength and discipline. Heavy hearted for having to leave those friends behind and having to go back to the noise of life in a small city and the daunting task of dropping the remaining sixty pounds. Also heavy-hearted because of this huge "what-next?" feeling.

I guess this a transition.