Is this an obsession? As the summer wears on and it gets closer to go-time, I’m always surprised at how AK starts taking over my life… Every activity and thought is measured by, “will this have any impact on AK?” Don’t work out too much, might get hurt and mess up AK. Compulsively check the salmon run- ya it’s updated every three days, but I still check it every couple of hours. Can’t schedule any important meetings during AK weeks or really a few days before cause I’m already checked out….Got to find time when everyone is gone so I can make the movie….review every list and research gear options early so make sure there is plenty of time to buy, test, return, repeat… The other night as I was eating a bowl of cereal and thinking about what else I needed to prepare, I stared blankly at the TV, some movie was on with Steve Martin and the blond guy with the big nose (Owen Wilson) and Jack Black. Almost imperceptively I began to understand it was about a group of guys that were obsessed with birding and what they would do to see the highest number of distinct bird species in a single year. Owen Wilson blew off his wife’s ultrasound and ultimately left her for a snowy owl that represented the world record. Hmmm, that is obsessive, but that’s not me….is it?
Let’s leave the obsession discussion and just dissect what is going on… In my life of 100 things to do on multiple to-do lists and constant planning, evaluating, judging, discussing, deciding- I seem to always be looking forward, looking to the next thing on the list. It’s not a bad thing, it’s just modern life- responsibility. Only in wilderness are there moments, minutes, hours and maybe even days where all my thoughts, feelings, and intentions are focuses only on that moment. Time stands still- there is nothing else in the world, just this place and this moment. I become attuned to details- the color and texture of the rocks, the layers of current around me, the simple tools of my trade, birds, insects, specs of transparent string, the texture of dry rabbit fur. So much of my life seems to be inside my mind, living in my thoughts except here, where my mind turns inside out and the outside world permeates all thought. All of the world around me is totally oblivious to my presence. Except for a few landed trout and the occasional intrigued bear, I am irrelevant. This has been here for a million lifetimes and will be here millennia after I’m gone. I am temporary. All around me is permanent. This truth is peace.
So I tell people I am going fishing in Alaska and they think of tricking a fish to bite a hook so you can eat it or take a photo with it, brag about your skill and mastery over it etc. Which is not even in the same universe as what I mean. Experiencing an ancient natural process- standing in the middle of it- seeing its beauty, pondering its integrated complexity, smelling its finality, hearing its brutality in the distant scream of a cub, and holding its magnificent power with your cold wet hands- even for just a moment- knowing you’ve paid the price to slightly comprehend Gods creation- eliciting reverence, humility… joy. Last week I did have a conversation with a friend who also loves the wild and as we talked about my trip- we communicated on that deeper level that comes when you’ve gone into the wilderness enough that it has gone into you.
Another friend was surprised that this would be my 9th pilgrimage. “Don’t you want to go to some other awesome place and catch other exotic fish?” I thought about that for a minute, “Ya, I suppose I do-“ and then I gave him the “rationale” for why I’m going back to the same river basin; cost, have it figured out, world class fishery…. But really I’m developing a deep connection with this particular place, the familiarity is both comforting and enriching. To not go starts to feel like a betrayal. This wilderness has given me so much, how can I leave her for even just one summer? Yes, I do want to cast to other species in other places- but that seems like it might lead to a list.
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