Almost Mexico

It was hard to sleep that night, anticipation and anxiety were in the air as I waited for sunrise and then a bit longer until late morning. I had been invited over to my nearest neighbors lodge for a late breakfast before heading out across almost 20 miles of ice near three feet thick.
Morning eventually came, and for the first time being up here, punctuality was important. I am still running on the time prior to daylight savings, which is PST and no one else is doing the same. I guessed it might take forty five minutes to get from my lodge to the theirs, through the forest alongside the river and then across lake inlets, a few islands and a straight shot to their front door. I made it in thirty.

Flavors, I almost had forgotten what watermelon, strawberries, and fresh banana's tasted like. We had scrambled eggs and chorizo, tortillas and fresh fruit. Without exaggerating much, it was the best.
Half of the reason I had gone was over and we suited up for a long bumpy ride across Lake Aleknagik. Almost halfway, is a massive pressure ridge where the lake is split in two, or at least the shelves of ice that lay upon it are. Crossing over the massive crack and slight (two foot) bump, you can see down to the water surface or at least within inches. Many areas throughout the lake are dangerous for snowmobiles, due to the lack of snow and black ice condition. It not only can turn your world upside down in a hurry, its very creepy to see, knowing that the black is water below that seems bottomless.

Making our way into the village of Aleknagik, where there is nothing more than a school, health clinic and post office, we stopped for a visit. I met the Park Ranger, and a man at the post office who is the clerk/carrier/postmaster all wrapped up in one.
My day had now been doubled for seeing people, from two to four and although it was refreshing to interact with others, I was beginning to feel flustered and the desire to be alone again.
We didn't stay long before setting back across the never ending washboard lake, and by the time we had arrived on the far end, I had a brain freeze like no other and not to mention a head full of loose screws.

I had envisioned this day for some time, the day I would get to eat fresh produce. I brought with me that morning a small quantity of trading goods that they said would be helpful and that I had an abundance of.
Chips, quinoa, raisins, nuts, soy milk, tortillas, cheese, cranberries and a few other things. In return, were my requests which consisted of fresh produce and salsa. I had fruit, canned and fresh, two varieties of lettuce, spinach, broccoli/carrot/snow pea medley, a cucumber, BBQ sauce, salad dressing and some pineapple. Months of waiting and wanting, craving and sadness over no fresh goods and now, I could feast.
We parted ways in the late afternoon and I left with the same anxiety I had that morning, only this time it was to sink my teeth into the can of tropical fruit mix and open up the jar of salsa which I absolutely pigged out on when I got settled in back home. There was no stopping me.
During the rush to get back, somewhere along the way I had lost the top of my container in which all the food was being stored. Quickly turning around, I regrettably picked a bad spot and became stuck in feet of snow and alder bushes. I dug and heaved, pulled and pushed finally freeing the machine. Over these last few months of riding, the hundreds of pounds the machine weighs has seemed considerably lighter by feel, after freeing it from so many unfortunate wrong turns.
About a half of a mile back, there was the lid, laying in my tracks. No further incidents occurred as I pulled up to the lodge and unloaded my sled bearing priceless treasures. Pulling the food out, the gas cans, snowshoes, ropes and shovels.... make that only one shovel, the other was.....probably not far beyond where my lid was.
Days later.... Today, I finally made it back out to rescue my best of three broken snow shovels... and I finally found it at the bottom of the lower lake turnoff, two miles from my lodge and within sight of my neighbors.

So I have increasingly been in the bomb shelter/air raid mode as I hear engines in the distance. Generally that mode is getting myself decent in attire, arming myself to lock and load status and a quick tidy up of the cabin in case I remember how to be hospitable and invite people in for tea. There were seven people total today, in two different groups that ventured within sight to do a little ice fishing. I'm glad they were out on the ice, because I haven't been willing to be the first in these particular areas. I still see no reason to go, being that not one fish was seen pulled up and much effort was made. They looked cold if anything, and rightly so,watching the sun go down and temperatures drop. It was forty one this morning in my cabin because someone forgot to turn on the heater. Outside it was twelve below and calm as it could be. I saw low forties the other day with full sun and no breeze. The past seven or eight days have been hardly anything different than what you might expect in Mexico, sunny and blue sky.