One recent evening, my roommate came home with a peculiar-sounding slosh in his step.
He'd been out fishing for reds on the Kenai and had managed to fall in. Twice.
I've claimed to be a lot of things, but overly compassionate was never one of them and I’m afraid it showed when, instead of offering a towel or — really — tangible support of any kind, I giggled. More than twice.
Honestly, you try watching someone swim out of their waders without letting out a good guffaw or two.
I spent a lot of time this week fishing without a license. Or, at least, spending time with other people who were fishing so I didn’t need a license. I hear fish and wildlife will hunt me down via helicopter if I ever decided to catch any fish without proper license, stamp and tattooed barcode.
I learned a few things I thought I’d let you in on, in case you happen to be one of the few Alaskans who doesn’t participate in this industry.