A couple of days ago while out for a walk, I saw a yearling moose coming down the road toward me. It was thin, walking slowly, obviously in distress. I was far enough away that I didn't represent a threat, at least not yet. I turned around, giving it the road.

In the late 1970s, landowners along the Kenai were outraged when told by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers that they could no longer dump fill on their wetlands. In the 1980s, many boaters were more than a little bit peeved when the state placed a 35-horsepower limit on the Kenai, forcing them to buy a new motor -- or motor and boat. In 2008, many of these same boaters were once again riled when the state initiated a 4-year plan to remove older-technology 2-stroke motors from the Kenai. Now comes turbidity caused by boat wakes.

The fish you caught last year probably has been in your freezer for six months or longer. Even under ideal conditions -- if it was bled, iced down, frozen soon after being caught and kept at zero degrees or colder ever since -- it no longer has the flavor or texture it once had. That said, it remains nutritious. Making it a pleasure to eat is what this column is about.

This time of year I do more armchair fishing than any other kind. Thanks to cyberspace, I enjoy vicarious treks to the tropics, where I can fish without breaking a sweat or worrying about malaria or venomous snakes. I also like not spending money, not having to be vaccinated and not having to sit in airports and airplanes for hours. An armchair, a computer connected to the Internet, and I'm on my way.