Great Alaskan Misadventures

It is almost Autumn dammit, summer was awesome,…. I think. I am in a dark room speaking to apparitions, after three days of self imposed exile from the outside world, for my sanity and for that of the general publics safety as well. I have three pairs of sunglasses with all kinds of gaudy costume jewelry designs , none of which even look vaguely familiar, a book of matches from “Good Time Charlies” w/ a phone number scribbled on it, two bottles of Spaten Optimators in their own brown bags, two cup o’ noodles apparently smashed over and over yet still in plastic, one Whamo! day glow frisbee w/ fair food still clinging to sides, one can of jalapenos unopened, one mini stick of unused toothpaste, deodorant and body powder respectively, three totally compressed trail mix bars, a flask of something, one blue button of mushroom’s  and I’m wearing what looks like a shirt from the Salmonstock Festival and remnants of a backstage pass hanging from my neck w/ Caution Tape. The back of the shirt has some kind of weird ass quasi runes that I cannot decipher and looks like a Time Portal of sorts from Stargate, it’s sort of freaking me out and seems to pulse from time to time, I have since thrown it in the corner under a pile of funky ass clothes I need to wash or burn.Upon summoning the strength and courage to venture into the outside world to purge these Demons from my bowels I am greeted by a blinding power source I believe to be Sunlight and a flurry of questions from my roommates.

” Dude! What the hell happened to you”?

Reply: ” huh”?

“Why are your clothes inside out?”

Reply: “what”?

” Where have you been?”

Reply: “where”?

As I attempt to urinate in what I perceive as the toilet I look into the mirror and what I see terrifies me. as I have somehow morphed into Shrek. I close my eyes and concentrate on peeing but can only expel what seems to be bright orange juice w/ pulp since I’m so fucking dehydrated and slink back into the comfort and safety of stank ass a fore mentioned room of darkness where I am now typing in order to make sense of it all. With a candle light, I must refer to my journal which is a spiral bound notebook that’s in the condition  of the Dead Sea Scrolls, all tattered. I must try and decipher all the entries which look like they have been written by many different hands and from a different time. It could be days or weeks or months I don’t know but this must be done for fear of losing the tether that holds my Spirit Self to this Earthly Bound Vessel within Suspended Animation of a Astral Projection gone terribly array…..So lets go on a magical journey of sorts…. and try and figure out just what in the hell happened.

April 4th :

I returned to Girdwood, Alaska in order to help the owners of Casa del Sol shut their doors forever, to the delight of only one person I will not utter his name. In response to this. half the town came out to throw down every bit of alcohol on this side of Anchorage until we simply ran out, then went and got more, it lasted for a total of one week. After that they started selling everything in order to buy more including the kitchen sink much to the dismay of the buildings owner. Since then I am sitting here across the street staring at the now curbed sidewalks which even though were only recently put in have been all but obliterated by snowplows from last winter and paved roads that only encourage people to speed through town like the fucking Dakar Rally. It is now the loneliest deck in the world sitting devoid of revelry and joy. The once forested town square where we once frolicked with wild abandon has been razed for asphalted handy-lanes access loops, picnic tables and simply a concrete square, I am heartbroken. This side of town is now the lonely side of town and sterile.

June 4th

I couldn’t tell you if its the beginning or the end of a dream or a nightmare having returned to Alaska but one thing I can tell you is that I have not woke up on fire or arrested in the time I have been here as in days past. I believe I have reached the Statute of Limitations on any pending warrants issued by the State so all of my portraits have been taken off of Post Office walls though I may still be on the back of milk cartons. To say Life has lost some of its zest is an understatement. I got pulled over the other day and was let go “with out” a warning. WTF? This is unacceptable. 

I have since removed the Lezbian Pimp Mobile from the confines of the property known as “the compound” with much discouragement and sailor swearing. The fuel tank is full of rust from sitting through the winter so the engine in defiance sputters and backfires flame from the carburetor into the interior where I almost catch on fire. And so smoke billowing from the windows that coincidentally don’t roll down it hobbles approximately 1/3 of a mile to the sanctuary known as the Park & Live. I have lost all my tools and am seeking someone to tune it up after I get all of this rust out of the line and have ingested no less than a pint siphoning it out. I now burp 87% octane which makes for miny fire breathing demonstrations to the delight of  my Hawaiian flame dancer bro.

The glacier which formed on top of the rig over winter slid off sometime in early May and took out the awning, kitchen vent and windshield wipers. From under the dash an assortment of colored wires hang from everywhere and the transmission leaks fluid as if a dragon slayed. The brakes when first applied simply went to the floor with no resistance as I shot through the one and only intersection in town, much to the revelry of onlookers. I have remnants of a screen door held over my one and only functioning exit/entry point held on with magnets to keep the hordes of blood thirsty mosquito’s at bay. It also promotes air flow which is most welcome since it borderlines triple digits inside once the Sun hits it. I made a for sale sign which reads as follows:


1976 Dodge Xplorer 224

Conversion Van


1 ton B-300 Full size fully contained factory built conversion van.

2 barrel Holly 360 cid Mopar engine

Heavy Duty 727 Torqueflight transmission

Recent ignition wiring & hi-output alternator

Upgraded propane tank

Power steering/brakes


Carburetor needs tune up or replacement 

Gauge cluster/defroster/wipers dont work or missing

Interior door latches and windows do not work

Furnace needs replaced

Brakes need everything

12v. system is shot.

Muffler is somewhere between Talkeetna and Seward.


Interior has deep shag mustard poop looking carpet

Crushed velvet leopard print walls/furnishings

Exterior rocker panel rust issues

This is a great rig for someone who is an adventurer, fisherman, vagabond, hippy or fugitive who wants to travel without luxory and needs more fucking shit in their lives. A soul that requires constant adversity on lonely Alaskan highways where no one is around to help.  Needs some TLC or a high caliber assault rifle for venting purposes. The keys are in the ignition as well as a fire extinguisher behind the seat which is holding it up. DO NOT try and start until you fix the fuel line as I snapped it trying to get carb off.

PS Good Luck and Good Riddance.

With that being said, I am though attempting to remedy some of these plagues albeit on a limited budget, fuck who am I kidding? There is no budget. But I will do my best with what I have, one roll of duct tape, one spool of rusty wire and a cheap ass multi tool.

On a lighter note, I went up to Denali for some much needed R&R (whiskey) on the Nenana River where I used to guide. Along the way I found a town that I think I could call another home as I feel as if my days in Girdwood are numbered.

Talkeetna is along the Big Susitna river north of Wasiila and south of Cantwell and was the inspiration of that TV show ” Northern Exposure” I found it to be a breath of fresh air in my otherwise law abiding dismal existance here in Alaska. It has the quaint charm of a old mining/railroad town with a few road houses a guy could  get into a few brawls without worry of getting shot or stabbed over it for once your done beating the shit out of eachother you’ll usually sit and have  a beer and talk about it, Any good mountain town should have brewery, river rafting, plethora of off road trails, airstrip for climbers wishing to test their mettle on Denali and my favorite: a town square with Live @ 5 music every Friday. The only thing it’s missing is a ski resort but there are some great areas just south of town in Hatcher’s Pass. I thought it would be a great place to make a new start and reinvent myself away from all the myths and persecution of my other haunts

Thats when some bald chick came running up to me yelling at the top of her lungs,



At first I didn’t recognise her without blood on her face or hair on her head but as we got to talking I remembered helping her a few years back when she was obviously drunk and missed the first four stairs while walking out of the Mercantile and proceeded to face plant into the parking lotand then in attempting to right herself simply plowed more gravel into her once beautiful face. I sprang into action and picked her up as everyone else who witnessed it were just standing there gaping. As I took her in my arms I had to avert my eyes and swallow my dry heaves as she had all kinds of rocks lodged in her face and was bleeding profusely. I sat her down outside on the deck and ran inside to get a 1st aid kit (for her) and a pint of whiskey (for me) whereas I then proceeded to clean her up a bit. It was a weird scene as she was so thankful I was helping her and in her dumbfounded state felt attracted to me and wanted to start making out for my reward, like that one love scene with the fleshless chick in Hellraiser , now don’t get me wrong I would usually jump on opportunities like this when they arise especially considering she’s built like a brick shit house and strangely enough, I do feel attracted to her, first and foremost duty calls . In any case she remembers this and wants to take me around town and introduce me to all her girlfriends and bla bla bla you know the rest. I REALLY LIKE this town! I will return someday soon.


I am so stoked as to have met up with a couple of my friends I met @ Kalalau University where I studied Brail Anatomy and worked as a Sherpa and Pleasure Tour guide on the island of “KAUAI”! We rallied on down to the Russian river where the Sockeye’s (Red Salmon) were running and proceeded to out “Sockeye Sling”( a technique of tossing out flies in a overhand manner) even the best of them, with the only take that being of a 12 pack of Sockeye IPA’s. After a couple hours of that we soon were headed out of there since there were a million other sob’s out there Combat Fishing. We drove down south to Lowerlake outside of Moose Pass where the guy who had the one and only kick ass spot next to the lake let us take it over. He said the Rainbows were hitting on eggs so we bought the rest of his plus his Costco size handle of rum. He even let us use his chainsaw in order to get some firewood to keep the mosquitos at bay. It started out pretty good but soon it became apparent that we were about as good of Trout fisherman as we were Salmon fishermen but we ultimately ended up catching one hell of a buzz. The next morning it became apparent why the guy gave us the spot so readily as we awoke to the sounds of heavy equipment all around us, we we’re seemingly in the center of a highway project we did not notice the night before.

July 1st

This past weekend was the Friends of the Forest Fair volunteer weekend proceeding the revelry next week where people from all over Alaska will converge on our small mountain hamlet. Its great to those of us who take time out of our busy schedules to set up for the fair, actually it’s mostly with those who have nothing else better to do and are in here, in fact for the free beer and burgers. Softball Sundays oh lord,…… what else need I write and will leave it at that. I plan on working w/ Vibe Patrol as to make enough money to fly back down to Cali for harvest season. I am reduced down to a few shirts and 2 pair of pants as I have free’d everything up. (lost). I’m sure I will have no problem fitting everything I own into one backpack.

If there is one thing here that has remained a positive influence on the community as well as myself it is the Vibe Tribe of the Forest Fair. I have had the pleasure to be a part of this yearly event off and on for eight years now. It’s probably no secret that back in the “Who-Jammy” days when people would camp out on the island within the Glacier Creek it was pretty crazy and I not being for one observing from the sidelines was usually a main player in all of its debaucheries. Since then some things have changed some would argue for the better and some otherwise as there are a few things that are different from years past. Since the inception of the no camping rules in and around park it has discouraged somewhat the craziness of the past. I would be lying to you if I told you that I don’t miss some the madness, nakedness and off the chart partying but we live in a different time now. I don’t want to try and argue that we were more responsible back then but it sure seems that the younger generation swing a lot harder than we used to. It wasn’t all that long ago when I was cornered snarling, ravaged with dilated eyes by the Vibe Tribe to bring it down a notch and become a part of the story and not apart from it. This year we only had a few incidents one being a drunken reveler who apparently watched to much “Breaking Bad” and “Son’s of Anarchy” which after parking his Hardly Ableson in the Handicap Zone went on to get tanked in the Beer Garden, insult and threaten a bunch of people and after being escorted no less than three times out of the park, the Alaskan State Troopers gladly responded to the call and even though he had a medical card for his marijuana it was found that he had a glass pipe and Meth which coincidentally the State of Alaska does NOT give out medical cards for. Besides that there was a naked guy we simply let the mosquitoes take care of and of course there were a few ” Lost Parents’ we had to reunite with their concerned children.

My buddy  from Kauai came back the following week in order to redeem ourselves with the Coho (Silver Salmon) run up Bird Creek. We got our gear all together and headed out and soon were tossing in Pixies and Vibraxes with great enthusiasm but were told we missed the tide so we found ourselves in the Brown Bear Saloon which is somewhat close to the creek. I then brought him back to Girdwood where I took him to the Silvertip Bar & Grill to get some lunch {we never ordered} and some beers. I guess we were there until closing where we then ended up at the Dive aka Chair 5……oh lord. I don’t remember leaving or really going there for that matter. All I know is sometime around 5 am. my roommate bust in my room screaming,

“Where’s your friend?! His girlfriend has been calling all morning & is worried to death!”

I barely moved. She found him later sleeping in the Lezbo. He woke up with a huge shiner he didn’t know how he got and had to return home in that fashion much to his dismay and I believe I have lost another fishing buddy. The next day it was reported that he was seen leaving the bar totally wasted and when people were trying to warn him about a Black Bear in the middle of the grid he just waved at them and told them how much he loved it in Girdie, much to their amazement he nearly stepped on the bear which had to move out of the way in order to let him pass. I guess it was a case of showing no fear as my buddy thought it was a dog and casually strolled on by patting it’s head thus confusing the bear, which most likely swatted him in self defence. Things like that always happen up here in the Lost Frontier. In order to keep from getting his ass kicked any further at home he told his girl that we were jumped by a gang of Tongans which took all of our fish, thus the dual purpose blackeye/no fish explanation. It was either that or tell her about getting bitchslapped by a Black Bear,… I mean who the hell’s going to believe that?

Speaking of Black Bears, I had the most interesting conversation about one with this new kid in town who just happens to be a dread locked dude from down south. So I’m telling him about this Black Bear that keeps getting into our garbage since my dumbass landlord refuses to get a bear proof garbage can and keeps leaving trash out on the porch. Anyways as Im telling the story he interrupts..

“So how do you know it’s Black?! he sais to me.

“Huh” I say back.

“I said, how do you know it’s Black”?!

“Well I ain’t seen a Brown Bear this year so I’m just guessing///”  sort of perplexed.

” Ahh I see how it is” he sais.

“See what?” I say.

“Oh I see how it’s ALWAYS got to be the Black Mother Fucker.” he snaps.

” Yo hold on Bro, I didn’t mean anything by that, I’m just saying..” I plead.

” No, let me tell you something about a Black Bear, the Black Bear is one of the most intelligent creatures in the forest and is always persecuted for maybe what other animals do. I mean who’s to say it ain’t one of those Brown or White Mother Fuckers? he ask.

“You mean a Grizzly or a Polar Bear”? I ask.

“No, I said one of those Brown or White Mother Fuckers!” he shouts.

” I don’t think we got those White Mother Fuckers around here.” I reply.

He ruminates on this and we just sort of sit there for a moment in this awkward silence neither one of us knowing where we we’re going with this, so I fired up some dank, you know that Green Mother Fuckin’ Shit?,…. which we both knew then exactly what we we’re talking about.

It was soon after this time that sadly enough the Lezbo was finally towed away, I have mixed feelings about it with all the memories and there lack of that happened in and out of that hunk of steel. I was like a Trap Door Spider at festivals, as soon as some hot ass hippy chick walked by,… BAM! All I had to do was get her in it and the Deep Shag Leopardprint wall to wall up on the ceiling potchuli smelling décor did the rest baby. You know what I’m saying? There were some I couldn’t get rid of though, some happy some mad, it was good for the time.  I didnt have a licence and Girdwood didnt have any paved roads or as many cops back then, Hell. when I first got here there was a dude who had this old Volkswagon Bus he drove around town, thing was it only had one gear; REVERSE. So he just cruised around with his head out the door doing like 35 mph all day long. Things have sadly changed. It had a Soul you know. It was weird because I was driving through Anchorage and from out of the corner of my eye I seen it in a impound lot I had no idea it was there and it seemed to beckon me with lonely dim headlamps, man I got to lay off this shit,… it’s getting weird man, but also the end of a era. I  raise a toast to you Lezbo my home and companion for over five years. I hope they don’t ever take a blacklight to that or their in for some serious psyco-delic shit!

August 23rd

I got a call from Great Alaska {Mis}Adventure lodge to come and finish the season out for no money and much fun. At least that’s how they sold me on it. I ended up catching a shuttle down to the lodge on the confluence of the Moose and Kenai rivers where the Sockeye were spawning making the water look as if it was boiling. During the interview I was told I would be hired on as a Safari Guide taking people out Sea Kayaking Kenai Fjords, Hiking the Resurrection trail,  Mountain Biking around Skilak lake, Flying out via Bush Plane to a Bear Camp, River Kayaking Moose River and on occasion shuttling for the Salmon and Halibut charters they provided. I pulled into the lodge in Sterling where the Camp Manager greeted me with much enthusiasm. I was given a wall tent of my own and furnished with a bed I had to assemble in a remarkable example of over engineering from the country of Taiwan. I was introduced to a few of the fishing guides who looked down at me with disinterest as they were obviously the top of the food chain here. I took it in stride for I remember being a the top guide in Denali and we all had the same mind set about other workers beneath us Demi Gods. I believe I have come full circle in working in every type of guide setting imaginable, such as: a Horse Wrangler in the Rockies,  River Rat Guide in Denali, Student Outdoor Activities Coordinator at the University of Alaska,  “At Risk Youth” Counselor in the Sierra’s,  Naturalist Guide in the Wood River Range, Botanist in the Emerald Triangle,  Snowcat Operator in the Wasatch and Tetons and of course as a Sherpa in Kauai, just to name a few. It’s really funny because I really cant stand people but I have to do this type of work in order to do the things in the mountains I love.

After I settled in a bit I was also introduced to a few of my fellow Safari Guides and the eight Chinese migrant workers, I would later come to call the “Red Dragon Mafia”. These lovely people were always the first in line to eat out of the back door of the camp like some kind of homeless soup kitchen which in fact gave me worse abdominal pains than my trip down to Nicaragua. They would converge at the door speaking in a high pitched menagerie of tones I couldn’t understand. I seen one of them eat a grilled cheese sand which and soup w/ chop sticks, I was amazed. There were thought to have been five males and three females but after closer inspection one of the males was found to be a flat chested female that wore baggy clothes. I was told that when they first got here they were going to put her in with the men until they all started chattering up a storm and we’re finally able to relay with hand gestures that she was indeed a girl and should not under any circumstances be put in the men’s bunkhouse. Then there is another one with the biggest breastesses I have ever seen on a Asian woman but she has a mustache with really bad acne. I have to avert my eyes when were all eating at the picnic table, but God damn those tits. They all made up English names because no one could remotely pronounce their Chinese names and all the girls took on stripper names like Cherry, Felina, Lola and Madonna, and the guys had simple names like Mike, Tom, Bill and Pete. Don’t ask me.

I had the opportunity to take the girls out on a motorised boat on the glacier fed Kenai River for a pleasure tour,.. a three hour tour, the weather started getting rough and if not for the courage of the fearless crew,… wait a minute wrong story. Anyhow I have two gals behind me and two in front facing me, one being the afore mentioned big tiity’d gal. I couldn’t help but notice that every time we hit choppy water those girls just started giggling and those honkers would flail about like gaffed salmon, they were heaving and hoeing so damn hard I had to back up off the throttle in fear of capsizing the vessel. True story.

One of my fellow workers is about to walk after only three weeks of employment here and has gone on to tell me the atrocities he’s had to endure since being here. He goes on to say about the so called Camp manager who micro manages to the point of telling you where and how to shit which I believe is the reason someone left a mystery turd on the bathroom floor. It would seem that one of the “Red Dragons” wanted to go out on the Kenai Fjords Whale watching trip which was instead given to the lodge owners nephew who is the janitor and who would be responsible for picking up mystery turd. In retaliation they gave the Chinese dude a few days off so he could go hiking on some of the more grueling mountain summiting hikes in the mid day heat. Upon return he has become so desponadant he does not want to work and I am in fear of him killing us all in our sleep. When news of his condition hit his boss on a balmy afternoon he was dragged into the office where he was to be fired and sent back to China, they say he fell on his knees and shrieked:

” I can not go back to China in shame, It will dishonor my family’s name”.

What were they to do? I mean he was going on crying how it would shame his whole family and it was a spectacule to witness, so they folded like a couple of lawn chairs and let him keep his job. But his boss said he is going to give him every shitty job that comes to mind in order to make him quit. I have only been here three days and I can see disention amongst the ranks.

We sat down and tried to figure out our pay scale since its all in a contract stating that $1,000 a month will be made plus tips. After doing some math factoring in six day work days at eight hours a day we were making $2.80 an hour, well below the minimum wage standard. Even if you added the tips we never received, were still totally fucked after they charge us for rent and food plus you have to do you own laundry at the laundramat even though there is a full on one at the lodge for guest only. Then to boot I am burning up my cell phone minutes because the Micro-mamager has to call me no less than five times a day even though were on the grounds together. It would seem after further investigations that we are not only getting totally fucked in the ass but with no reach around to boot, Fuck Almighty.

Thank God I get to drive off the property from time to time.

One of my duties is to take the salmon, halibut and rockfish to the fish place where they freeze, package and send them out. So when I get there, I have to back the van into this area where these people are waiting to unload and tag the fish, well there’s this hot ass gal that is wearing these Daisey Dukes so far up her Yin/ Yang, I punched the throttle instead of the brake and damn near sent the van through the building. I make it a point to show up early and vollunteer for this position on a daily basis.

Which reminds me of Good Time Charlie’s. It is an esablishment here on the outskirts of Seldotna that from what the boys here on premises say has some of the most beautiful show girls this side of the great Alaskan Bush Co. in Anchorage. So I being a titty bar coneseur took the opportunity to check it out while on my way back from doing something or another I wasn’t supposed to be doing. It was a much needed break from all the BS at camp and so I walked into the dark and dismal joint in the mid day heat where the Sun seemed as if it was only a mile or two away. Some Honky Tonk music blares out of some ratty ass speakers and this old weather beaten bartender w/ fake tits looks up at me like Im interupting something extremely pressing, like her “Press On” nails. She has a cigarette firmly welded between her Botoxed inflamed lips and a tatoo of something that resembles a smashed butterfly that was applied in 1985 on her neck.

” Whada have”? She sais.

” IPA” I reply.

“Nope” She parries.

” How about a porter?”

The look on her not all to recent “lifted face” sais’ that she is not happy with where this conversation is going, so I order a Budwiper since there’s posters of it everywhere. There is a awkward silence as she slaps the non-frosted mug of flat shwill down. I notice that the dance floor is well weathered and the pole in the center buffed to a brassy sheen yet there seems to be a shortage of girls to show. Im just happy to be away from the camp, so I don’t complain.

This hitchiker dude comes in with an enormous backpack on with a fire extinguisher size can of bear spray and a Bowie knife that gives him the Aura of Bilbo. The bartender ask what he’ll have and he replies,


My heart goes out to him because I have been in this guys shoes many times before, a stranger in a strange land with way to much shit on his back and hardly any money or friends, so I buy him a beer which he quafs in two gulps and then buy him another.

I finally get him to talk not much but its more than the bartender had going on so were just BS’n about being a tramp. We were talking of all the places we hitchhiked or hopped a freight train in order to get too. I miss the simplicity of those days before I was employed, seems so long ago. (five days to be exact)

It was here that the bartendress actually sparked up a conversation in a raspy ass voice:

” So I guess you want to see some titties huh”?

I’m thinking maybe she’s going to call on some Hot Ass Babes in the back to wake up or something and before I know it, she’s dragging her old tired ass up on the stage after putting in Bob Segar’s

 ” I love they way they Strut”

“Oh Lord” I think to myself,……

 next thing I know she’s trying to wrestle out of her beer stained apron which apparantly has waken the hitchiker out of his heat stress.

” Fuck Yeah!” he screams.

And from out of nowhere some guy pops up from behind the bar that looks strangely enough like Ron Jeromy and sets down two more beers and a bowl of pretzels which the hitchiker slams his face into like a ravaged dog. I’m planning my escape route before she can figure out how to get her top off but see that its already gone along with her skirt in one fell swoop. And there she is: for all to see,

 the hitchiker eyes are fully dialted and searching, he is now standing dry humping his stool, which encourages this cougar into some out dated dance moves I am embarrassed to witness, I look nervously about for the nearest exit.

“My god, nothing can come good of this” I think aloud.

She’s down to her saggy ass thong, I’m reeling and stagger to my feet whereas the hitchiker slams his vice like grip on my shoulder and slathers,

“Two more beers!!”

I’m in panic mode as he screams like a banshee

“She’s Fuckin’ Hot Man!!”

I look at him like: WTF!? Then gaze back to her to make sure were seeing the same thing here,

” Oh fuck, she’s made eye contact”.. I realize

She’s now contorted backwards like the fucking Exorcist and moving towards us on all fours, Snatch up front and center like a contorted crab. I see speed bumps on her belly from what I assume were circumcision scars and an ass hanging like a old wet & worn down saddle bag on a rat of a Harley, I start to hyper ventilate.

Next thing I know she levitates back up like a Sucubus coming in for the kill and grabs the back of my head in what seems to be an attempt to get me to go down on her, oh, …for the love of God. I place both hands firmly on the edge of the stage and lock out my elbows and prepare myself for the long haul. Were now interlocked like a EPIC struggle between Good and Evil, She then pulls nothing short of a cage fighting maneveur and now has got her spindly ass legs wrapped around my waist pulling me in ever closer to what I perceive as the End of Time. But definitely not Space……

“OH Lord” I cry out and with one mighty heave I gather the strength to reach into my pocket where I have a wad of crumpled up dollar bills and throw them in front of the hitchhiker. Which he quickly starts flattening out and puts in his teeth, for a split second there we are: the three of us in this death defying tragedy of humanity and just when I thought I was doomed she released her talons from me and pounced on the hitchiker’s face like that creature from Aliens, I bolted for the door and fell out into the blinding Sun and couldn’t get the damn keys in fast enough and burned rubber all the way back to camp.

 I now refer to that place as “Bad Time Chucks” and look away every time I have to drive by.

After that I tended to stay in camp most the time except when out on a guiding venture never wandering to far from base on my free time. I was able to take people out on some really cool stuff like Humpback Whale watching in the Kenai Fjords National Park where they were breaching and slapping their fins and tails all around us. I also made it out to the Fly-In Bear Camp @ the base of the volcano Mt. Illiama where I got to meet a honey colored sow bear named Shaniqua who would wander into camp from time to time and take peoples lunch as well as a big mean looking boar we called McNasty. I must admit it was so cool seeing all these bears out there clamming or swiping fish out of the creek but got boring after a day or two of seeing bears walk, bears shit, bears sleep etc.

In any event the last straw working at the lodge came after a full day of Halibut fishing in Deep Creek where a fellow guide and myself caught ten chickens (small Halibut) and upon returning to camp they were confiscated and fed to the paying customers. That was an eye opener. I mean I didn’t mind working for nothing while out and about in some of the most gorgeous places on Earth nor did I mind working like a slave digging stairs into a cliff or pounding nails for that matter but when they took our fish that showed me what they thought of us and so when it was my turn to take customers back to Anchorage in the brand new company van, when that cock sucker micro manager called me up and started chewing me out for some bullshit I calmly replied:

” Fuck off you piece of shit mother fucker, you better find a way to come get your van”.

He obviously didn’t realize who he was fucking with.

August 3rd

My Dear friend Mamacita actually entrusted me to be on my best behavior and vollunteer to work Salmonstock Festival, and when I got here I thought she said:

“Pando, we have Gay Jumpers, so keep your eyes peeled”.

“What the fuck? Why are they beating up gay people?” I replied.

” No you dumbass, GATE JUMPERS, let me see your eyes”.

It was all good and I was able to hang out with some dear old friends backstage and make a buttload of new ones, I am blessed. The musical guest were outstanding which cumulated with Trampled by Turtles and Brandy Carlile tearing it up much to the pleasure of the crowd, I was now a part of. For the most part I was just hanging out with the musicians and besides there was Little Girdwood in the Backstage Area where we all are Family. Most of us set our tents up in the fair ground animal paddocks so we wouldn’t get rained on, I imagined animals coming by looking at us instead of visa-versa.

On a more serious note this one of Alaska’s premiere festival’s that helps bring awareness to the plight of our Brother Salmon and the trials and tribulations that are associaited with them. The worlds largest open pit mine (Pebble) is being proposed here at the headwaters of Bristol Bay; the world’s largest Sockeye Salmon fishery. We just cannot allow this to happen and for this reason this festival is put on to bring education and awareness to their plight. We have to be their voice since they don’t have one that Humans can readily understand, so I want to share a story with you all that was told to me by a Tlingit Elder from the Auke Kwan Raven Clan when I was in S.E. Alaska. Its a much bastardised version but I think you’ll get the point, so here it goes:

In the beggining there were only Animals on the Earth. One day the Great Creator made something a little bit diiferant and he called it Man but it was a baby and defenceless and so the great Creator called forth all the animals, each and every one to come meet the new creature and they were to bestow a gift to the babe in order to help it survive through its time here on Earth. So the Brother Eagle fell from the sky with a shriek and gave him Eye Sight, and the Brother Bear came down and swatted the babe and gave him Strength, in turn, ALL the Animals came down and did this until that baby stood Erect as a Man and could go out into the World and Survive.

 It was here that the OLD GRANDFATHER SALMON came up the river, the last to come up to Man and he was Spawned Out and half dead and told Man that he had nothing to give, but he made him a promise that all of his OFFSPRING would be there for all of Mans decendents until the End of Time. So now when the Salmon Spawn every year returning to the rivers and streams this is a FULLFILMENT of that promise. It is in Our best interest if we do everything we can to Honor and Protect this Covenant. When I think about this I have come to the realization that this is True and if we allow the Rivers and Ocean to continue to be the dumping ground for the likes of corporate greed and industry you bet your ass that when these collapse, it will likely be the End of Time. I know for a fact the loss of Salmon wont be due to me and my buddy from Kauai. This is my Testimony and I’m sticking to it.

Peace Out Bitches.

For more information on the Pebble Mine Project Please Visit;

I would like to iterate for the record that this is a sexist piece of shit writing and is no way a reflection of how I feel about women…….. for the most part, sort of.

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