June 6, 2007

We made a seamless transition from ski season to summer. Too bad the weather hasn’t finished the transition.

We took a nice camping trip this weekend. After work on Friday we headed south. We had a couple of campgrounds in mind to get us a good stretch of road behind us while not making dinner too late. When we realized that the two campgrounds that we were primarily considering were over 1000 feet of elevation in a windy pass area, we began to question our choice. The rain sealed the deal. We kept driving for another half hour. We selected a campground that we had been eying since last summer, the campground at Crescent Creek. We drove a few miles down a dirt road and found a nearly empty campground with large sites. We set up, had dinner, and took a short walk along the creek. We played cards and went to sleep. It rained a little overnight. Our new tent stayed dry.

Saturday was a casual start and a few hours of driving. We stopped in the town of Kenai to see their visitor center. We enjoyed their museum and art gallery. The museum was small, but intensive in content. The art was thought provoking.

We headed north from there, through the industrial complexes of big oil in Nikiski, and on to Captain Cook State Park. We drove a couple laps around the sparsely occupied campground before settling on our site. We set up and swatted the early season slow moving mosquitoes. Then we took a hike along the beach. The beach went from eroded bluff to rocky to sandy to muddy. The mud went on for hundreds of yards. We threw rocks and watched the mud splash. We hiked down to the outlet of the Swanson River and back to the campground. We saw some porpoises playing in the tide. We saw some of the oil platforms in Cook Inlet. I could identify many of them - scary.

We had a nice dinner and tried out our new camping shower. It worked well, although we did splash outside the collection pan and had to mop up a little. It was nice to be able to take a shower in a campground without facilities. It was nice to be able to be clean for the ride home on Sunday.

After our shower, I walked back down to the beach while Kris read a book. It was shocking to see that the tide had rolled in over the mud, over the sand, and into the rocks. In places, the water was against the bluff, a 50 to 100 foot high eroded embankment. At high tide, we couldn’t have walked the stretch of beach that we had walked earlier. A dark object caught my attention a few hundred yards offshore. By the time I aimed my camera at it, it disappeared. My best guess is that it was a seal.

It rained most of the time we were at Captain Cook. It only occasionally drizzled while we hiked on the beach, but it rained almost nonstop as we cooked dinner and as we slept overnight. The tent kept us dry, but it was pretty cold. The temperatures were in the 40’s. Every time I rolled over, the cold air would find a new path into my sleeping bag.

Sunday was a nice day. We hiked along another stretch of beach. The previous day’s rain resulted in mudslides down the bluff. We found a large rock with a path of deep marks in the sand tracing its recent path bouncing on the beach after crashing down from the bluff. A few small slides of gravel let go as we walked under the bluff. The sound of sliding material sent me scrambling toward the mud. The beach was wide enough that we could walk a line that felt pretty safe from falling materials while not having to walk in the thick mud.

We left the park in the early afternoon to start the couple hundred mile drive that would deliver us to our home that was only about 45 miles away. We stopped again in Kenai to see the older buildings in town. Some date back to the late 1800’s. The old town is atop a high bluff overlooking the outlet of the Kenai River. It was a nice vantage point. The large river winds around a low muddy flat area. Huge seafood processing facilities line the river. Large commercial fishing boats were docked in the marinas.

We rode our bikes to work a couple days so far this week. The afternoon winds have been kicking up making the ride home difficult. Yesterday I took a detour on the way home to investigate a huge cloud of black smoke blowing through downtown. Huge flames poured out of a large condo complex, fanned by the high winds. The building ended up being a total loss. It was the closest I have ever been to a residential fire. It was a good reminder that possessions can be taken away at any time.

I have been out fishing a couple times this week. I caught a couple of tiny little fish. It was just nice to be outside. While fishing this evening, I noticed a baby moose in the woods across the creek from me. I kept a watchful eye while casting as mothers can be very dangerous. A few casts later, I heard a rustling directly across. I looked up and two baby moose were peering at me from the woods. I glanced around. Still no mom. The babies emerged from the woods and browsed on leaves along the creek, looking at me with innocent curiosity. I took some pictures. I was getting nervous. Then I heard momma in the woods. She came to the edge of the woods and gave me a stern look. The babies ran to her side. I backed up, looking for a tree to hide behind should the momma decide to charge across the stream. Momma accepted my retreat. She turned and headed back into the woods, but only about 20 feet. Momma laid down in a clear area and the babies wandered nearby. I went back to fishing. I worked a pool near the moose family. Suddenly momma hopped up and took a few quick steps toward me. I retreated behind a tree. She again accepted my retreat and headed deeper into the woods. I decided to go fish some mooseless holes.

I rounded the next bend in the river with caution. I knew I was now on the other side of the moose family and I wasn’t sure if they had remained in their location. I moved cautiously, watching the other bank for momma. I startled when I heard a sound in the brush on my side of the creek. A moose was scurrying away from me. I moved toward the moose as it appeared to be moving on. I was expecting it to cross back over the creek near the next fishing hole. The moose got to the bend in the creek and stopped like it didn’t want to cross. It turned and gave me the most evil look I have ever seen from a moose. I froze, making sure I had quick access to large trees. The moose and I stared at each other. I explained that this was public land and I had a right to fish there, but the moose just glared. Then I noticed the sprouting antlers. This wasn’t momma. This was a male. I glanced back over my shoulder knowing that I was now in between an irritated, cornered male who seemed afraid of a little water, and an overprotective mother. I moved in a different direction, giving the male a path out without having to cross the water. We slowly swapped positions, constantly eyeing each other as we walked in a big circle. I tried fishing.

I startled at a crashing sound somewhere behind me. Two flashes of movement caught my attention. One was my aquaphobic bull moose friend trotting through the woods, the other was momma, bluff charging the young male from across the creek. I decided that the fishing just wasn’t that good and called it a day. Just another evening of living in the city.