The Bowtastic River Life

Six years of wild Alaska river experiences weave in and out of my conscious and unconscious thoughts.  Those sun drenched corners, the waves of chum and sockeye darting away from the raft, the incomprehensible streak of giant red that marks the king.  The individual fish.  Sometimes the savage take or the fierce run to the backing or the gentle bump and heavy head shake.   The acrobatics and immediate adrenalin rush with the glimpse of "fish of the trip".  The relief of a sweet gravel bar just when fatigue has taken over.  The sting of rain on the cheeks and popcorn on the tent fly. The nonsensical conversations, the new sayings and the unspoken coordination of camp set up and take down.  The perfect unplanned plan for the day.  It's become such a part of us.  As soon as summer breaks in NC I get the questions, "when you going?"  "How was the trip, been yet this year?"  "Man, so you go every year to Alaska?  How many times have you been?  Just you and your brothers huh?  You see any grizzlies?"  To the lower 48 AK is THE last frontier.  Many have been via cruise ship, some have been via lodge and jet boat, none have been unguided on a raft down an obscure river.  It's become a defining part of my character, my story, who I am. The next chapter will begin unfolding in seven days.