Musings from the 49th

I've been trying to blog for two seven ten days now.  And for those of you that have been the recipients of emails, calls, cards, letters, and/or voicemails, you know that there has never been a shortage of verbal exchange with me.  Now, I'm not saying that this slight and current dilemma is rooted in having nothing to say (I know some of you are thinking 'Duh'), it's quite precisely the opposite in fact (insert another 'Duh').  I need someone to answer this question: How do you blog when too many days - full of new people, new adventures, new lessons, new stories, (no new marriage proposals yet), skip to my lou on by faster than the speed of running your beer battered badonka donk away from a Grizzly bear?  Though, a stipulation to answering this question for me - do not ask me to simply "pick and choose" a few things to share.  It would be a waste of your time because I won't do it.  It's all worth it to me.  And though it's usually once per blog post that I apologize for the great length of black font filling your browser, let's be honest, I still do it.  I know I'm forgiven though - because I don't have 490 blog posts yet (which is 70 x 7 - the number of times the Bible says that you have to forgive me).

Thus, let's begin on the newest musings.

There are only three rules at camp: #1. When we are hungry, we eat.  #2. When we are sleepy, we sleep.  #3. When the fish are running, forget rules #1 and #2.

Breaking down on the side of the road is the best way to make new friends in Alaska.  Though, this does not make our Wrangler's feel very secure re. our driving competency.

There was something more exciting about obtaining my Alaska Hunting and Fishing License than my driver's license.  It could be that 16 years old was a Mississippi River away and I don't remember, but I just don't think that is the case.  Then again, maybe it was the fact that I was with a Captain of the U.S. Coast Guard who grew up fishing and success at sea was soon to be verified.

Dilated pupils and baggy eyelids are considered accessories - or at least I have considered them accessories in an effort to justify this new look.

Camp is unintentional and yet somehow intentional community - all at the same time.    Unintentional because no one ever says, "Hey, let's go up to camp and be intentional about living in community with one another for a week. "  (Especially at an Alaskan Fishing Camp).  Intentional because when you get to camp, the reality is that this is exactly what happens.

While at the beach: Hover, look for the hole, shovel three scoops, oceanside, and you will find a beloved, sand dwelling, neck digging, un - crushed clam.  Repeat.  Repeat times twenty.  Or more.  Return home.  Cook.

It's indeed true.  Bears can be your greatest competition when fishing.  If they see a fish on your line from the shore, they will not hesitate to plunge into the water and entangle themselves in your fishing line to order to obtain your freshly caught Nemo.

Learning how to tie a fishing line, hook, and sinker may not be the most applicable skill to have in America, however, it is one of the most fulfilling and rewarding to have in your repertoire.

You know you vacuum seal a lot when you start having dreams that you are a professional vacuum sealer.

Should I ever find myself lost in the wilderness for days on end, I am now capable of catching and gutting my own fish.

Toys are overrated.  Human size slingshots are not.  Ps. Dear God, I hope you bless me with boys one day.

Alaskan Entertainment: Finding abandoned and discarded survival suits in the dumpster and swimming down the river in them.

Midnight fun in the sun consists of massacring porcupines.  Similar to a "rabbit's foot," doing the same with porcupine feet is not out of the question either.

A true Southerner taught me the way to hearts by means of Gumbo.  Furthermore, being that he is a football coach and lives in Texas, I felt like I was in my own little episode of Friday Night Lights with Coach Taylor.

Bears do show up in your driveway.

"First time shooter's" has nothing to do with a pistol, shotgun, or semi - automatic.  It has everything to do with oysters.  And though this was not my first time, I did decide that I could be a first time shooter here in Alaska.  Plus, there's a unique satisfaction that comes from shucking oysters.

"Modest is hoooooottest." (Voice tone should reflect that of an attitude).  An excuse for all the layering you have to do here in Alaska.  With the exception of hiking a glacier.  Please note: This behavior is only for mature adults and at the digression of the individuals involved - not the company or organization they are associated thereof.

If you drop a Wrangler's handmade filet knife in the rushing river, not only will he find it, but he will forgive you.  He's just that cool.

The game Settler's and the significance of Wood, Brick, Ore, and Wheat take on new meaning when played in Alaska.  In addition, playing against the President of Eternity Bible College, well, let's just say that things just reach a whole new level.

A Halibut eyeball is equivalent to a pirate patch.

This is how you cook corn on the cob.

Hammock wars are equivalent to playing a competitive pick - up game of basketball.

Try playing chubby bunny with Jumbo Mallows.  Or sand.

Kissy face pictures are really popular here.

I feel equipped to be the newest cast member of Deadliest Catch.

We met Norman Lowell.  If you don't know who he is, you should learn immediately.  I would also like to own his original log cabin.

Watching people create legacies trumps any and all primetime and HBO segments.

Fireside makes for the best concert venue.  Log stumps, S'More roasters, sticks, and rocks make for the best instruments.

A real Polar Plunge: Jumping into the Ninilchik River in Alaska at midnight.

It's soothing to the heart (on a bad fishing day) to distinguish how many fish you actually hooked on your line - despite whether they made it into the cooler or not.

You know you are starting to act like a local when you are combat fishing and the tourist (or non - local) takes position next to you in the river and illuminates your lack of patience and anger management because you are spending more time un - tangling their line from yours than actually casting.

Ceviche' made by a Mexican man in Alaska: Skill and fresh food access makes for a dynamite combination.  It's also important to note that he bodes as the best dressed in Alaska, and unfortunately, this is just something you would have needed to be here in order to understand.

The best car trips are the ones with drooling passengers, sunflower seeds on the floor, and empty Dairy Queen cups.  Okay, and loud singable music, but that just seemed so cliche' so I thought I would save it for the end.

It's possible to obtain more family members in a matter of hours.

Had I known what a seaplane fly-in fishing trip to Wolverine Creek was, it would have been the number one item on my Highway to Heaven list.  I'm going to add it, just so that I can cross it off.

This is real, this happens, and I've been blessed to have this as my dinner entertainment on multiple occasions: It's called the Courtship Flight.  Each year a bald eagle renews their life - long commitment in a courtship flight.  It's a crescendo of airborne acrobatics - locking talons and free falling from the sky.  For hundreds of feet.  Right before they reach the surface of the water, they open their wings and break free.

We often think that we know what or how we want something to look, or even be like.  But then along comes God with a different agenda - one that bodes of something greater, an exchange of, "I'm not going to give you what you want, but I'm going to give you something even better - something you didn't know to even ask for.  Something you didn't even know that you wanted."


This will never make sense to me as long as I am in Alaska: 

"This land and this place called heaven far exceeds the glories of this earth."