X marks the spot

I remember a trip to Cape Cod.

I must have been somewhere between eight and eleven years old. I wish I had a better memory but they say it’s the second thing to go when you get older, I forget the first. Bada bing…Anywho. Myself, my brother, father, and mother decided to go to Cape Cod for a mini vacation to visit some relatives. Technically my brother and I had nothing to do with the decision. We were in grade school and if we were even allowed to stay home, as soon as that cookie jar was empty we would have been screwed.

I remember nothing about the trip there or the trip back. I fall asleep real easily in a moving vehicle, except planes. I get gassy. There I said it. So if you are they lady who was sitting in 21F on my last flight I am truly sorry. I tried to play it off by looking around for the perpetrator but deep down I know that you know it was me.

Back to the Cape.
The only think I do remember about that trip is going souvenir shopping in some open marketplace. I wasn’t a fussy shopper. How could I be? I didn’t have any money. I was allowed to get one thing to bring back to the farm with me. What ever should I get? I looked and looked. There were the usual trinkets with Cape Cod plastered on them. Most of these things did not appeal to me. What did I need a shot glass for? The giant novelty pencil would have been a hot topic when I got back to school. I could imagine the ohhs and ahhs from my fellow classmates. Now I knew what my souvenir had to do. It had to make me cool. And what make a grade schooler stand out more than anything? Anyone…anyone? Clothes! Whether it be new shoes, a cool hat, or some jams (remember them? They were really long shorts.), clothes made someone stand out. So what was it going to be for me? A new pair of shoes I could get anywhere so they were out. Plus I think if I asked my dad for new Jordan’s he would have laughed at me. What about a new hat with Cape Cod airbrushed into it? That could be cool. Oh wait, I can’t wear hats in class. They’re out too. So I was down to clothes. Was it going to be a t-shirt, sweatshirt, shorts, pants, maybe some cool sock gloves with the little toes pockets in them. Probably not the socks.

So here’s me the little farm boy searching through rack after rack of cheap Cape Cod clothes. I don’t know if I looked long or I saw it right away but when I saw it I knew it was the one. You ever see in a movie how they portray someone moving towards the camera like they are floating? No bobbing from walking just a smooth glide like the actor was floating on a cloud. When I think about seeing it for the first time and walking up to it this is what I picture in my head.

It wasn’t just one piece of clothing. It was a set. Like a salt and pepper shaker. It would seem odd to see one without the other. The shorts were your basic shorts. Nothing special. Deep red in color with a cheap elastic waist band. It didn’t even have pockets. The top was a baseball jersey style shirt. Buttons down the center. Matching the color of the shorts on one side and dark green on the other. The buttons weren’t the only thing attached to the jersey. Stitched down the side of the front of it was a name. A name I was not familiar with but it had a big X at the end of it so I thought it was pretty cool. And if I thought it was cool then my classmates must too. Right?
Written above the X was the name MALCOLM. So there I was. This little white farm boy begging his father who is trying politely to say no and not look like a racist for a shirt that really shouldn’t be worn by a little white farm boy. I had no idea who this person was or what he stood for. It looked cool and that was the only thing important to me. I begged and begged and finally my parents caved. YES! It was a small victory but one I still remembered to this day. The only thing I can’t remember is what happened to that damn outfit once we got back to the farm. This is purely speculative but I think my folks caved only to shut me up knowing all along that they could easily dispose of my victory once we got home. I don’t even remember getting to wear it to school to hear those ohhs and ahhs. My victory sure didn’t last very long.

I should have gotten the giant pencil.

My Alaska 2009 Trip

The crazy looking one holding the knife is my father-in-law.......I slept in a locked vehicle!
That is the deck we worked on. Looks good doesn't it!?
Look close and you can see the two cubs. This was a difficult shot to pull off seeings how I was running for my life!
Me and the Kenai
Momma bear fishing/eyeballing me
The one halibut I felt was big enough to keep
It serious business up here. Combat fishing they call it. We all fished way down river from this nonsense.
Our sweet campsite. Note the upside down red folding chair on the end of the camper to keep the tarp high. Genius!
Doing a little fly fishing in the Russian River
The halibut do get heavier and heavier but somehow smaller and smaller....time to hit the gym again!
First Mate Pat, Captain Mike on the left, and the gang to the right!

This year I was fortunate enough to be able to go back to Alaska. I had figured last year was a once in a lifetime experience, but a very gracious friend of the family helped me with the airfare. It was his way of saying thanks for helping out with the construction of a deck last year and for any help I might participate in this year with another deck on the backside of his house. Thanks again you two!! Well the deck went together smoothly but I had to fly back to Hawaii before the finishing touches were put on. The rest of the time was spent fishing. I, my father-in-law, and a few of his cronies camped at Cooper Landing down on the Kenai Peninsula for a week and we fished, and fished, and fished. We went out on summer solstice at 8pm and didn't come back to camp until 6am. It hardly got dark at all. That night we had to fillet and carry back about 42 fish. I ended up taking 100lbs back to Hawaii with me. I had to buy a small chest freezer and put it in the garage because there was so much fish. We also went out on a halibut charter. It was beautiful, calm, and loads of fun. We pulled up one after the other until our forearms burned. Nothing very big but its like pulling a five gallon bucket or a sheet of plywood off the bottom of the ocean. So I got a buch of that in the freezer along with all the red slamon. I should be set for 6 months or so. Oh, and I almost got eaten by a big brown bear. Here's the best advice I can give on the topic: when you see a momma bear in a small brook getting fish for her 2 cubs that are watching from the path you need to use don't assume that you can sneak past the cubs while momma is on the other side eating a fish. They will see you. They will cry out for momma. And she will be back across that river in a millisecond! Good thing she was more concerned about her cubs than chasing me back up the path. That was only one of a few encounters with bears on this trip. They were everywhere. They would be in the woods watching us fillet fish. They would walk up and down the river eating fish remains . The one time we thought we would be okay they were there too. We went for a walk down the highway that runs past the campground. Its pretty busy but that didn't stop another brown bear from clomping out of the wods in front of us. Luckily it went the other way. You are definately not at the top of the food chain when you go out into the wilderness in Alaska. But, there is a kind of humbling feeling that I enjoy about that fact. And if you have never been there...GO!