In June, I bicycled the Dalton Highway (aka Haul Road) from Prudhoe Bay to Fairbanks. It was everything I expected - hot, dusty, buggy and endless mountains with 12 percent grades. In other words, it was an experience, not a vacation.
Another climber once asked me if I knew the definition of mountaineering. There are a lot of possible answers to a question like that, but nothing came to mind.
"What is it?" I asked. "Moving slowly uphill while not feeling very well," he replied.
This would be a good time to think about how many salmon we need for our personal use.
When I first learned how to catch salmon, I gave little thought to how many I needed. Cursed by Norwegian genes, my main concern was being on the water, fishing.
Thu, 07/18/2013 - 1:58pm
NEW YORK - Pulling on the track jacket when the newscaster on the radio just said it was 7 a.m. and already 83 degrees felt a little weird. Maybe even crazy.
I did it anyway.
Lito Tejada-Flores, a world class mountaineer, once wrote "you never climb the same mountain twice, not even in memory. Memory rebuilds the mountain, changes the weather, retells the jokes, remakes all the moves.
This has been an interesting year. In most Junes of the most recent 30-some years, I've spent a lot of hours chasing king salmon and razor clams. Due to the scarcity of these species this season, I've neither fished nor clammed.