"2" many mouths (edited)

The days seem to be getting better and better as the month of October progresses. Slowly the sun creeps behind the mountains just a bit further, rising a bit later and producing some amazing views, prior to the storms that follow. The mornings have also been bringing new companions in this wilderness, leaving me not  alone as first anticipated. I seem to be making new friends, and though the sacrifice is a hunting disaster, I can't complain too much. The fox (no name) is hindering my ability to find any Grouse, while the newest addition to the camp is a river otter or thought to be at first...(actually a Mink upon research) named Picasso. His cute and curious ways make up for his scaring of the fish, and making the catching process seem more like fishing, I think its good not to be too spoiled. The fishing has continued to be amazing and even more plentiful with the trout that have been coming in strong numbers.

This beautiful morning was like none other thus far, the sky was on fire with shades of red, pink, purple, orange and yellow. Like flames burning without a course, the skies changed all too fast, as the light rolled over and through, all around and under the clouds. Wherever these brilliant beams of light could squeeze, they went, consuming every facet to shine off of, it was spectacular.

This sight was only too familiar, as there was a day like this last year, that was even more vibrant and surreal, and I recall the day ending with a snow storm, as well as producing big trout on the next river up the lake system. I was already planning on getting in a sunrise cast or two, and what a morning it was shaping out to be. First cast lands a Rainbow about ten inches long. I recalled the fresh fox tracks in the snow as I snapped every photo I could of the sunrise, and thought he wasn't far, probably already watching me. I tried my smooching and whistling.... Here Mr. fox... and sure enough, I hear the light breaking of snow, footsteps getting closer and faster. Looking over my shoulder my friend is running at me, ears up and alert to the flopping in the water tugging on my rod. I took the little fish off, gave it a toss towards his curious face, and without hesitating, he bit down and left in a hurry. I suppose he ate it. I cast again, hoping, and probably the only time I hope to catch a small fish, that another little one will bite. Wham, twenty three inches of beautiful dark red striped, green and white spotted from eyeball to tail fin, the most gorgeous trout of the week. I could not give a fox a true beauty like that, and after all he didn't even see me catch it, but he did. He was laying right behind me watching the whole thing. I suppose, or would like to think that he has a fine appreciation for the singing of a reel, one of the most beautiful sounds ever heard.

Now the expression was pure disgust and disapproval as I released the trout, but not losing the faith in my compassion, he stayed close for another meal. He also had faith that I could catch another. And  I did, not as small as I was hoping, a thick football type twenty incher', and that sealed the deal that both were to enjoy breakfast.

I took the fillet, he took the other side attached and made off like it was Christmas. My breakfast was delicious, and thought that he may have had too much, as my half wasn't quite enough. He showed his appreciation, or acknowledgment of care, allowing me to snap a few photo's after he and I had eaten.

Although he seems relaxed, he is quite careful, not to get too close without flinching and then coming back. I was fortunate enough to gain some trust today as I fed him some scraps of fish that I caught this morning. He came and took them from my hand, and that is the first step to becoming a more trustworthy companion. Now on the other hand, Picasso my Mink friend has been ready to go from the start, as he first came and stood on my foot as I was fishing, smelling my pants and then jumping off to search for food. He is a playful creature, very funny to watch, always bouncing around so happy to do what he does, be it eat or dig in the snow, come investigate my world or watch on hind two from the shoreline. I think I will like him best.

Too many mouths to feed, he has immediately recognized my ability to feed him, and watches without patience, running into the water before I can even get the fish off the hook, its been a bit of a scramble to make sure as not to catch him. He took the remains of another fish from my hand and made off into the shadows of a stump to devour his gift.

This day had just started, and with feeding more mouths than mine, I think the reward of being this close to nature is most worth it. I will have to hunt and fish more, simple.

To pass the afternoon's, fly tying is keeping me busy, off the computer and more importantly it keeps me thinking like a fish, what they would look at and what they would want to eat. To tie a fly and catch a fish on it is one of the most rewarding things a fisherman can do in my opinion. At least to me it is. These patterns are of a Mayfly, and very productive on the Grayling as well as Rainbow's when the hatch is on.

As the night passes, the most recent full moon has shed light on a very dark semi frozen land. The remainder of the moon is seen shining in the East, South East around ten  or whenever I step out to take a peek. It soars across the mountains to settle in the West as the sun rises. Although the sun is out, so is the moon, circling back to the East to start another revolution as the night approaches once more. It was clear blue sky the other day and I watched the moon circle above, visible at all hours of the day and night, being twenty four hours of moon. Land of the midnight sun is Alaska, and so is Land of the mid day moon. Its something small and otherwise irrelevant to the function of life, but its one of the small things that brings a smile and a moment of , well there are a multitude of words to insert there but it is a good feeling and worth the long adventure up here. In the mornings, I wake to check on the bird activity down the pathway, but not bothering to look for long as the fox patiently waits, pacing in front of my window, anticipating my presence and eagerness to fish.
Its a good life, for those that came before me, and those that hopefully will come, there is most definitely something to be said for this lifestyle, the woods, mountains, simplicity...

They all got away

Hunting and fishing is often referred to as such and not Killing and Catching for the simple reason, you are not guaranteed anything. Sunday was such a nice day to wander around in my boat and try my luck on the river, and from the constant rising of fish, splashes in all directions I figured today would be successful. It was a good day, catching rainbow trout all morning, sixteen to twenty two inch range, until my wrists were tired and fingers numb. I broke my rule up here as well and for that I felt slightly bad, until I ate him. No killing on Sunday's is my rule, just made it up to keep that day apart and rest... but fishing is gambling with that rule and the tables turned when one of the most strong fighting little rainbows tired himself out to death and left me with no choice but to take him back for dinner. I will say that it took less time to cook and eat, than it did to try and revive him.... just wasn't his day.
I wasn't very pleased with his choice to die on me, flopping around a bit, as a last ditch effort to kick it in gear, but false hope on my part led to frustration, so I slapped him around a bit and I said,

 "Are you talkin' to me?" I don't think he was.... just nerves making him twitch....

None the less, on Sunday I ate this trout and liked it... enough to continue the gamble that another may die and I may feast... but I'll try to let them go first.

So today, Monday....The day that they all got away.... I get up half dazed from a restless night of semi awake, semi asleep, back aching and so forth kind of night to a lone Grouse outside beneath the trees a few hundred feet away. I smile and think that I'll soon have my hands covered in blood before breakfast again... and I must say that although the picture of what I just described doesn't sound that appealing, it actually is a very satisfying feeling to make an early morning kill, to know that dinner will be there if you want it.

So I sneak off out the front door and around back, up the hill, watching for any last minute sleeping bears that didn't hear the alarm to leave by the time I get out there, and continue in the direction of this bird. The frozen dirt only produces loud crunches and cracks, hindering my stealth like objective and warning every bird for 1/2 mile that something is coming. I find the bird, now I have to move in, using trees between us to hide behind. I creep slowly and swiftly to a tree just ten yards from this bird that is seemingly anticipating my every move and evades a clean line of sight or shot for that matter until a head pops out, then a body and the bird is had..... I open my eyes as wide as they can go, squint and then back to normal.... the down side of low visibility and just waking up... I line up the sights.... BANG! I'm a terrible shot with this .22 pistol that seems to be more of a circus gun than anything accurate to say the least. All I do is scare the bird and it flies off to live another day... Now the thing is, where there's one bird, there has generally, almost always been another near by that is hoping I will not see them. I am slowly glancing from branch to branch, tree to tree, and then out of the corner of my eye.... a movement that isn't a bird. Its red and dog like.... I knew it! This fox follows me on my hunts, and hearing gun shots, he comes running hoping that I was lazy to leave a bird down, but not today. I couldn't even hit one, but he didn't know that. Great, no camera... I frantically grope my body, checking all pockets and remembering exactly that my camera sits nicely on a shelf by my computer.... I don't know what it is with me and making odd noises at animals but I start at it again, calling in a hundred different smooches and squeaks trying to keep the attention away from another bird we are both after.... Needless to say that bird took off too and the fox meandered up the hill past my cabin just waiting for something else to come along.

I slowly moved toward him, smooching and squeaking, and stop right in the middle of the path, as he gets up and moves closer and closer to investigate a lousy hunter. He was within petting distance, almost like those squirrels you see eat out of peoples hands... except I had nothing to offer. Smelling all around me, making sure I wasn't a threat or maybe figuring I could be a meal in a bad pinch, he just looked at me and slowly I walked away towards my cabin with him in pursuit. Open flies the door, I drop my gun, grab my camera and try to snap some pictures as he trots off to find what he set out for in the beginning.

Well he didn't get too far before laying down near where I keep my fishing gear, so I get the bright idea that I'll catch him a fish for breakfast and hope he continues to come around. I'm not lonely or trying to buy friends, I just want to see him and pet him at least once... a new goal.
I cast out to the  middle of the river.... using a spinning rod this morning, I reel in slowly to let the lure get deep enough... bump..... bump....tug....??? nothing.... I cast again with more eager intent, trying to feed this fox and SNAP! my lure flies nearly across.... So I run to tie on another.... finally get it and cast out... immediately a tug.... a hard tug and the drag starts singing! I start to smile and say to the fox look what I got for you.... but great where did he go? Just like Zorro to disappear, and now I've got a real lunker fighting with all he's got. I watch my line make a dash down river and hold, my rod is nearly in half... I hooked into a real treat, one of the bigger ones that I had been hoping for a day earlier...not those naive little ones that want to be a trophy... anyhow, tug, tug... tug.... singing a beautiful song the drag is... tug and ...nothing. I went from smile to frown pretty quick and now with no trophy rainbow, no fox to show it off to, ( I would have let the big one go) no bird in hand.... one lure down, clearly it was not the glorious morning that I had anticipated. They all got away.

I'll try again tomorrow, with less expectation and more perseverance on the hunting.... and when in doubt trying to call a fox, I'll just fire a round off and wait.

I also researched eating fox. It is generally not recommended.

"Rule of Gun"

Here is the proof that I'm not losing my mind thinking that a fox or a few are out to steal my birds... Its rather interesting that his tracks are everywhere I find bear tracks... so one is following the other, which is leading is still unknown. I speculate that I am watching the birds, the fox is watching me watch the birds and the bear is watching the fox to find me....
Just a theory.

The Grouse are easier to spot with snow on the ground, and easier to track, since they prefer running on foot rather than flying. A good day out the other morning and afternoon, four birds in hand thanks to snow and patience. I am creeping along more slowly and more quiet than before, which is contrary to the idea of making as much noise as possible to keep the bears aware of your location....so you don't sneak up on them. Either way, I have my bird gun and my bear gun. I have established an idea that it is a good idea to carry a weapon larger than the tracks of what is out there.... "rule of gun" ,not "rule of thumb".

So learning what I did this summer about tracking, I was able to successfully determine the size, and approximate speed the bear was moving, direction and what he was doing.... At first bolt, he was moving pretty fast with about a 12 foot gap every time his right front hit the dirt and quickly slowed to a humble walk within 100 yards of initial contact. He stopped and turned to the right as if to glance back and then continued walking into the woods.... all in all, about 197 yards I was able to track him and figured that the weight might be around 550 pounds give or take some. On the flip side of things, there are at least two and possibly three bears that are roaming around the lodge buildings...  I found sow and cub tracks that lead  into the woods but investigating further meant I would have to get "hatchet Jack" images out of my head that someone would find me froze to a tree grasping my gun and a note that read something about "I killed the bear that killed me". I left them alone.

Cooking has been enjoyable and challenging in such a confined space and being extremely limited with ingredients.... sort of. So these are Baked Apple Turnovers and this batch made about a dozen. After sampling a few, I put the rest in the freezer to store for Christmas morning or any other occasion I feel warrants some pastries. It was nothing more than a simple apple pie recipe, just cut into different shapes and baked on a cookie sheet. I may try cookies next, but the best cookies seem to be when someone else makes them and you just sit down and eat ...

For dinner I have been digging around in my freezer, examining the inventory for new idea's and for the sake of not eating salmon every day. I've had it a few times so far, each time is amazing but even that tends to wear on your taste buds a bit. So for this meal it was Blackened sauteed Sea Scallops with an Onion Couscous and a little flare for the pictures.

Time out here has been slow. It seems longer because there is not much to accomplish and yet it seems like just the other day I was in civilization because again, I haven't done very much. Hard to explain, but either way a few weeks have gone by and the month of October is slowly becoming the past. I'm looking forward to November being over. I'm told that it is the worst month to be here, due to the rain and transition to snow. However it has to be, I'll watch a few more movies, read a few more things, eat, sleep and of course have my routine workouts. I am still waiting to see some moose. They too have been more a night creature around here, leaving tracks and offering no sightings. Perhaps soon.

To everyone who has referred my experience to the Shining with Jack Nicholson, I felt a "shining" moment yesterday as I was taking a look through of our main cabin.... curtains shut and dark rooms, hallways with no end in sight, mirrors and creaking floors, I found myself looking over my shoulder a few times and often checking my pistols for their readiness. It was slightly odd but okay.

The moon has been getting full and more visible between the storms... and last night was a good night to see it, before the rain started again.  Another day done, and laundry today, should be fun. I miss washing machines.

The "missing" mark of Zorro

Well the mornings usually have been calm and uneventful, such as this morning, but within an hour, snow flakes are falling and mountain sides are quickly hidden by dense cloud cover, wind blowing snow in all directions and possibly hidden due to me not looking for them as I sit by the fire. Day's like these are quite nice to relax, and when necessary to step outside, I quickly scramble to get things in order so I can get back to my fire. I start the day's starting a generator, filling it with gas, plugging in my freezer, but that is only until it stays below freezing day and night. I plug in my battery power system, cycle through the gauges, figure they are all in the positive and go about putting on some music as I prepare breakfast. I gather wood, for the stove, make my rounds looking for birds, signs of any intruders or unwelcomed guests such as bears and then proceed to my morning thoughts of miscellaneous topics.
I found out that my best chances for bird hunting were to scout the area prior to stalking them and figuring an angle to approach. I grab the binoculars at my far left window, scour the landscape and spot a few Spruce hens pecking and wandering, pecking and wandering. Its going to be a good morning....
I head out and first hill behind my cabin, a clear shot at three birds, so I pick the closest...BANG!... poor shot...
BANG! dead bird. I investigate as it  flops and bounces off limbs to the ground, flops a bit and then done... I move on. making my way up and around the back side of camp, I shoot two more and figure the rest have gone away due to my tramping and stomping around, scaring what was left of them anyhow. I have two in hand, on my way to pick up the third. I get there and to my surprise, I've been robbed! There is a blood splatter all over the ground in the leaves, feathers all around and no bird. No bird for a good twenty yards in any direction, through thicket or open grass, no bird, no trail, no nothing! I am still not positively sure what happened to this bird, however I am blaming Zorro for this. He comes and takes what he likes, eats what he likes and never leaves a "Z" anywhere to be seen. I was trying to fall asleep the other night and heard this horrible sound coming from outside the back door. A sound that might make a cat fight seem pleasant. This was a real warning for someone... was it me? I should think not, considering that I am contributing to his meals, or was it to another fox that wanted the same territory for easy pickings from a trusting hunter. I could use a pair of fox mittens, or a friend to dine with. Perhaps it will be like Dances with Wolves, having a pet so to speak. Haven't seen any sign, just noise.

This is for my days by the fire, reading, relaxing and mostly just enjoying the cold from a distance*

Finally I climbed the mountain behind the lodge. It is not the easiest little hike due to how steep it can be, although it could be my being out of shape from all the eating and relaxing. Its a good hour hike, and well rewarded with the view of the park. Behind me is Lake Aleknagik, the North end. I was hoping that the sun, which was in and out would be "in" when I made it to the top. I took too long in the woods, and gasping for air every thirty yards near the top didn't help on the poor timing of it all. I remember this being quite easy when I was doing it at least once a week last year.

The snow up top was iced over, to remain there until next summer when it all comes down around July.

I guess time out here is making me less leery of going out of my cabin at night, to put left overs in the cooler or to gather wood for the stove. Like any other evening, I was just listening to music, cleaning up and stepped out to put my dinner away, and I make it to the end of my cabin and scaring me half to death a bear woofs at me twice and takes off running up the hill. Now my first reaction was not to grab a gun, which was not on me but to bark at it like a dog....What am I thinking? Then I thought exactly that and yelled at it to come back and I could have a warm rug this winter. Now I learned my lesson earlier not to leave my gun behind when I leave, but that was mainly for hunting purposes. I grabbed a bigger gun to carry now for these non hunting related encounters.

Marking it off by pace, exactly fifteen yards from where I stood barking like an idiot and where my hungry friend was. He was actually snooping around my cleaning table where bird and fish smells still linger. I'm waiting and watching for his return, hoping it will not be as dark out and I can get a better look, not closer.

Cooking has been the usual, salmon, brown rice with onions or garlic. Tonight's was a great seared ribeye, medium rare/rare, lightly salted with brown basmati rice, caramelized onion and minced garlic.

Its was a filling meal but much needed after today's workout. I'm not losing weight that's for sure.

"Boris the Butcher"

I rather liked the feeling of hacking apart the partially frozen slab of meat, ribeye to be exact. Something about it felt very primitive and satisfying, much like the feeling of being free to drag my knuckles, grunt and stare devilishly at random objects that first look at me wrong.
I liked the individual packaging of the steaks, wrapping them up one by one, sixteen in all, it was so good, I pondered briefly my future as a butcher and what exactly it took to become one. Is there a school, is there a workshop or apprenticeship? I know that people have a passion for it, some seem a bit off upstairs or even the glorified "Boris" in the movies that is a butcher by day and some sort of mass murderer/hit man at night.  I doubt I have a career as a professional hit man, however I'll certainly entertain the other. In regards to my day, this was my only "must do" task that I had set aside. I went out to gather some sticks and branches for another project that might hopefully keep me occupied for some time... that means more than a week.

I want to share with you all a small portion of my Sunday services. It wasn't the usual, but it was going to have to do for the whereabouts of myself and my limited capabilities of getting into an actual church. I won't preach to anyone about skipping any service to go fishing, I will only share in photography my time with God. So there I was, enjoying the morning on the river, having a great time making drift after drift through the lower section of the river below my cabin and above the rapids...feeling each and every bump of the river bottom as my fly (bead) bounced along and watched my indicator as it periodically went under the surface either by snag or a take from a fish. Rainbows were plenty this particular morning, ranging from the fourteen to eighteen inch range and making it so much better to be out here enjoying this angler's paradise. So when I had my fill of trout, I slowly eased on the gas of my jet boat and cruised up the river to the mouth, and looked over the rises in the water as the remaining salmon come up to see where everyone has gone. Sad to say, they have all died. I change rods and cast out, BOOM! a strike and a beauty she is... BOOM! another and another and finally, on this gorgeous Sunday, while I should have been in church, I was in "church".The time with God was great in peace and quiet, but the singing of a reel was so much sweeter to the ear than any choir or musicians notes at that very moment. The Lord was good to me.

So there she is, just over twenty-four inch and six pounds... it was the last of the day and a great way to go. I thought to myself as I was reeling it in, please don't get off, please just fit in my net... it was a stretch to keep it in but luckily the fight wore it out enough for a few pics and a good release.

My project that hasn't happened for some time... has come to light. A prototype of what I'd like to build in a more sturdy and solid state has passed the tests and works great. Its a forearm workout machine, you grip the lower bar and squeeze it to the top where the palm of your hand is stationary. Copper pipe wasn't my first choice but it brought back tons of memories of Lego building and Lincoln logs, Erector sets and the like. Anyhow, I used it yesterday, and I can tell you it does the trick. I'm a nerd for working out... Speaking of the workout, I'll never do laundry on a Monday again. I could hardly squeeze any of my clothes to wash and rinse, it was quite the show to watch me, (if anyone had been around) of my feeble attempts and faces made to get my laundry done. It was part one of my two step process that day. Part two was while finished with laundry in the sauna, now I could proceed to sweat profusely and then bathe with water that was either too hot or too cold.... I'll have time to perfect it.

That's my bath house, the sauna.

So dinner and movies continue, day after day, I think of something new to try, something new to create and enjoy. I've only had a few things I wouldn't make again. I am also finding that my chips and salsa supply originally thought to be enough is not looking out to be that way. I will have to re-think my consumption and ration with more diligence. So for the evening meal, I had a plate of buttered cous-cous with raisins, just like growing up, and a small portion of calamari. It was delicious with Siriacha sauce*

Tonight is that perfectly red ribeye, pan seared and peppered with more cous-cous and another bottle of vino...