A few of us are blessed with a primeval sense of abandon. We live for the satisfying shudder, bungee jumping from a rock face, or standing pat in the face of a grizzly’s false charge. Far more of us are contented to partake of the perils on the Last Frontier at the safe end…
No bears on the trail today… Of necessity, I had set out to pick up groceries that I ordered at Fred Meyer days ago—but on this trip, I got distracted by ALASKA… In 30 years of Great Land living, I couldn’t have conceived a more nightmarish reality, where authorities order families to practice social distancing…
I sloshed waist deep in a slow, friendly creek, inhaling forest smells and an occasional gnat. A beaver slapped its tail a few feet away, and his image faded under water before I refocused on the elk-hair caddis sinking ahead of my fly line. Perhaps it was time to refit my tippet with a woolybooger……
On a late-evening drive to the Eagle River Nature Center one expects to see a moose or a bear—but never a yak. The English word “yak” derives from the Tibetan “gyag,” (which actually refers to the male of the species), and the females are called “naks.” So, a male and female twosome might be called a…
Cache of Grace 