August 19, 2005

We spent another $500 on our cat. This time it was primarily dental work. She had two teeth extracted, one back tooth and one of her upper canines. We have nicknamed her ‘fang’ since she now only has one. She seems to be doing very well.

Since Kris went on a job interview, I figured I’d better start looking a little more seriously. I am sure I will never hear the end of it if she gets a job before me. This is proving to be more mentally stressful than I imagined. I think I know what I want to be when I grow up, but choosing something means eliminating all the other possibilities. Even applying for a job feels like a commitment to a direction. In the past year and a half of not working, there have been many things that I have said I thought would be fun. I want to fix things. I want to use my technical skills. I want to use my leadership skills. I want to not be in a office environment. I want to have a different work location every day. I want to travel around Alaska as part of my job. I want to work outdoors.

So yesterday I applied for a position with the Alaska Railroad. They need a technician to inspect and repair electronic signal devices. They had 10 questions for desired qualifications and I answered 9 of them with a yes. In fact, I am probably way overqualified so we will see what they do with that. The only no answer was about a commercial driver’s license. It is my first application, but I feel good about the job opportunity. It is kind of funny that our last hike in Denali started out along the railroad tracks. There was a small shack along the side of the tracks with a sign that explained that there were instruments inside that monitored the brake temperatures of each car as the train passed, sending a signal to stop the train if anything was unacceptable. I jokingly said that it could be fun to work on that kind of stuff. Who knew I would find an opening for just such a position the very next week.

I am thinking of re-labeling my journal to the adventures on Campbell Creek. Yesterday afternoon I headed back to the creek. The Fish and Game website suggested that fishing for silvers would be best after a rain since that would get the fish to leave Campbell Lake and head up stream. It rained quite a bit by Alaska standards on Wednesday, so I thought it would be a good time. I decided to head downstream further than I had been fishing in the past to see what kind of holes existed down that way.

I saw lots of fish hanging in pools. I caught the biggest trout I have caught so far on the creek. It was still pretty small. It would have required a partner to make a meal and since I had just started fishing I released it. I found a very large pool that was just out of site from the bike path. The pool was full of fish and they mostly just sat there, ignoring my crappy jig. I worked my way to the back of the pool and suddenly my line went heavy. I pulled, but not too hard since I hate setting the hook on sticks. The line moved and then I saw the fish come up and splash. It wasn’t real lively, but it did put up a strong fight.

A group of boys came floating by in inner tubes as I was fighting the fish. They seemed excited that I was catching a salmon right in front of them. They tried to steer out of the way. As I battled the fish, I could see that it had started to change color. On the plus side, I could see that it had spots. I finally caught a silver. I netted the fish, but kept it in the water. It had a hooked jaw and it was pretty dark in color so I decided to release this one. I took a picture of it, but it is almost impossible to take a picture while holding a fish in the water in a net by yourself.

I couldn’t get anymore interest out of that pool, so I finally moved downstream. A hundred yards or so later, I found another nice pool that had a couple fish in. By this time I had straightened or broken the hooks on three of these crappy jigs, one with the fish and two on sticks. I had a couple more with me, but I was tired of using these crappy things. I put a spinner on and threw it in the pool for a while. It is frustrating when you can see the fish so clearly, but they are just ignoring your lure. I decided to put on another crappy jig. Stick with what is working, I thought. Three casts is all it took. I watched this fish slowly swim up behind my jig and grab it. I fought the urge to set the hook upon seeing the fish, waiting until I felt it on the line. The fish seemed a bit sluggish, not taking big runs, and I quickly had it along side. I reached for the net, but had trouble getting it out from under my waistpack. I made a snap decision to just drag it up on shore since there was a nice gravel bar right there. As I dragged it out, I could see that it was a nice bright fish with spots, a keeper silver. Unfortunately, the last thing you want to do with weak gear like my crappy jigs is get the fish out of water. The hook straightened when the fish was only about a foot from the edge of the water. I quickly moved toward the fish to try and recapture it, but it wiggled across the mud and back into its pool.

Of course, there would be no more takers from that pool but I figured I should replace the jig before moving further downstream. As I was tying the knot, I heard a rustling in the brush around the bend upstream. I looked up, expecting to see another fisherman, but instead saw a dark brown fuzzy shoulder in the brush about 5 feet off the ground. I startled and said “Oh, no.” It picked up its head and I was relieved to see it was a moose. Then I said “Oh, no”. It was a baby moose. I immediately asked “Where’s momma?” and added “Hey momma, I’m over here” in an attempt to make my presence known. I heard another rustling behind a bush just ahead of the baby and thought that was good. Momma is in a good position, between me and baby. I quickly finished tying my knot and got out my camera. I tried to position myself for a picture, but there was a lot of brush. I heard the front moose coming around the bush and set myself up to get her picture with the creek in the background. As it rounded the corner, I took the picture of another baby moose. Oh good, twins. “Where’s momma?”

I backed away, but the babies kept working toward me. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to fish or take pictures, so I did both. They got really close. I waded out and across the stream. One came in the stream with me and took a drink. I was beginning to think they were following me. I kept talking to them. They didn’t seem to mind. At times, they were less than 15 feet away. I told them to leave me alone, I was fishing. Besides, I told them, I was there first. I worked my way downstream, looking for more holes. They followed along.

Finally I reached the bike path and left them. I headed downstream to try one more hole before quitting. No luck there and I headed back up the bike path toward home. As I passed the point where I left the babies, they were still there, this time out of the brush and along the stream. I got my camera back out and took some more pictures. They finally crossed the stream and headed into the woods. I never saw momma.