The new day dawned. Actually, the new day had dawned very early; it's that time of year in Alaska. The room I was in had very good drapes on it that kept out most of the light, so sleeping was easy enough.
Most of this day was spent out exploring nature up around Hatcher Pass and Summit Lake. My host and his wife do a lot of hiking and exploring around the huge natural paradise in which they live, and part of why he had me up this time of year was to see the difference from my usual mid-May visits. Believe me, it was different, very lush and green. We had gorgeous weather that day, too, which made it seem even more otherworldly. I didn't feel like I was in Alaska; it felt like New Zealand or Ireland.
There were many people out taking advantage of the nice weather (including a lady whose two dogs splashed around Summit Lake, one of them coming over to try to take my water bottle). But do some careful hiking and you can find a place to sit and think all by yourself. That's what I did, taking a seat on a rocky ledge, looking out at this paradise you see below, and thinking about how lucky I really am. Yep, this place is my other home.
The rest of the day was spent on more humdrum tasks. We went into town for lunch, stopped by a bookstore and looked around, and then hit the grocery store for supplies. Rainier cherries were on sale, dirt-cheap, and we loaded up on those. And among the provisions were a couple pounds of fresh salmon fillets. Although I normally avoid meat, I'd been wanting to try some Alaska salmon for a long time, and my host was going to oblige this visit.
Back at the house, we adjourned to his workshop. My friend and I share the hobby of these little plastic airplanes, and he also has a fine stock of rare woods and woodworking equipment. We've known each other coming up on a dozen years, and we share the craftsperson's mindset, so we understand each other on that level. But it's more than that. There's a saying about how friends are the family you choose for yourself, and that's why I tell people part of why I'm in Alaska so much is because I have family there. Yeah, my friend and I share the same interests, have the same sick sense of humor, and all that, but we can have long conversations about life and the universe and all that. I have a brother and I love him, but my friend's like another brother I should have had (though he's no doubt thankful not to be related to me, but I digress). That's much of the fun of getting together. We had a few bottles of locally-brewed product and talked for a few while, and life was great.
After a little while we came back inside. His wife had come home from work, and I hadn't seen her since my last visit, so we spent some time talking in the den, catching up on things and comparing stories about our cats while my friend made dinner. It was during this lull that the house suddenly went "whump!" and swayed a little. The nearest thing I can compare it to is being aboard an airliner that's made a hard landing, that same sort of quick thump that dampens out. After a second or two, everything was fine. Just like that, I'd experienced my first Alaskan earthquake, another component of my indoctrination. It's a fact of life up there, just one of those things that happens, and it's much better to have a bunch of little earthquakes than have 1964 happen all over again.
After that, the rest of the evening was quiet and uneventful. Dinner was good. The day's adventures had tired us out, so we didn't linger too long after dinner. The next day would bring more adventures, and some memorable photographic opportunities.
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