Music, Bears, Fish, Family - what else matters?

Can you believe I'm feeling a bit homesick for Destin, or Florida in general? Mallory, one of the housekeepers here, who is from New Smyrna Beach, Florida, on the east side of the state, and I were talking today about how pretty the water is here, but you can only look at it, whereas in Florida you can look at it, then go in it and really enjoy it. She said that she used to think she wanted to come back to Alaska to live (she was last here when she was 10), but now that she's here, she wants to go back to Florida. We both agree that so far, what we've seen of Alaska is a nice place to visit, but we'd rather live in Florida.

Anyway, Friday and Saturday the Diamond M Ranch hosted the 7th annual music festival in support of the local public radio station. It was better than I'd expected, as our meeting with the owners to decide on who was going to do what to set up for it didn't amount to much. Ian and Larry were to set up the picnic tables, but there really wasn't anything for Janet or me to do. At least, not after I said I'd do any thing except pick up turkey poop when JoAnne thought it would be fun to play poop bingo with turkey poop. After all the chicken poop I've picked up from the front of our Montana, I'm not about to do it for someone's entertainment!

So, Janet and Larry worked Friday while Ian and I worked Saturday, so we'd all get to attend the festival on our "off" day. The purpose of the festival is to celebrate the summer solstice, which was last night when we were supposed to get about 2 hours of darkness. Bands played from noon to midnight both days, 12 each day, and of all styles of music. There were even a couple guys playing the Australian digereedoo (I'd guess that's how you spell it.) There were some good rock & roll bands, and some blues, etc. Even a Polish oom-pa-pa band. I kept waiting for "Proud Mary" to be played, but never heard it. Venders sold commerative t-shirts, cheap plastic toys, clothing made from hemp, pop-corn, various foods, including reindeer hot dogs, which are quite good. I like them better than regular hot dogs, as they are very lean and crunchy.

The ranch offered horse rides and llama rides, except the llama kept running from Blair and would not allow himself to be caught, forcing the prospective llama riders to get refunds. Little Ian was disaapointed, as that's the one thing he hasn't done here, and he was really looking forward to that. Speaking of things he has or hasn't done, both Ians assisted in the neutering of two male calves last week. They held down the legs while the deed was done, and of course men being men, no one bothered to explain to little Ian what they were doing or why. You can imagine what was going through his mind, and the look on his face as the proceedure proceeded! When the Ians got back to the Montana and told me what they'd been doing, and after I gave my full female extent of "yuk!" and "poor calf!" little Ian then asked what exactly it was they were doing. Leave it to Grandpa to let Grandma explain that one!

Another side note - the night after the neutering took place, the owners had us and the other campground hosts to dinner for their delicious deep fat fried halibut and other kinds of fish, and this night in particular, some small round things, battered and deep fat fried. Luckily, I asked what they were before tasting. Carroll said, "You ever hear of Rocky Mountain Oysters?" "Yesss," I said hesitantly. "This is the Alaska version," he replied. "From yesterday's calves." Thanks, but no thanks, I thought, and left those little balls right where they were!

Oh, one of the bands at the music festival was a small group singing folk-type music. We had heard them the previous week when we were at a little coffee shop in Kenai with Bill and Jean, Ian's nephew & wife from Virginia. It was open mic night, and these two women and two men blended their voices, guitars and mandolins so well, it's a shame they don't have CDs out. The coffee shop, called "Veronica's" is quite unique. Just two rooms, obviously not built at the same time, seats maybe 30 people tops, the bathroom outside, not really great service, but the mochas and root beer floats we all had were delicious, and we could have sat all night just listening to the music.

We had gone to Veronicas after having dinner at Louie's, now the one restaurant we must always take visitors to. It's so typical Alaska, with stuffed dead animals hung on the walls so they are peering down at us and our food. They hang out from all directions, the caribou's antlers pointed directly to the second seat at the bar, the grizzly's large brown brow and protruding teeth smiling anticipatingly at the person eating the baked salmon at the round table, the trophy King Salmon smiling at the fisherman in the room, eating restaurant-bought salmon, the moose jaw languishing lazily into the dining space, the black bear's eyes asking, why?, why?. Anywhere in the lower 48 I'd not be able to eat sourrounded by dead animals, but here in Alaska, it just seems right.

Before going to Louie's, Jean, little Ian and I had ridden out to Russian River to pick up big Ian and Bill. They had gone there to get "the big one." They cast their lines out enough times, but came up with only one salmon, courtesy of Bill's rod. Big Ian is getting a big discouraged with the fishing around here - it's certainly not proven to be the fertile fishing grounds he'd heard of. It's still early in the season, though, so I hope it picks up for him. Anyway, on the way to the Russian River, just as we left the city of Soldotna (the Diamond M Ranch sits between Soldotna and Kenai), we approached several cars pulled over to the side of the road, which in Alaska means a wild-life siting. So, I pulled the truck over, Jean, Ian and I jumped out and across the road, to join the other 50 or so people to watch a grizzly in the field. It was laying down, sometimes lifting its head to pear at us, probably wishing we'd just leave it alone. Word got around that she had a baby under her, so we all waited for her to move so we could see her cub. We took lots of pictures, and were so happy for Jean that she got a good look at a grizzly bear. The bear never did stand up, though, and after a while, we gave up on seeing her baby, so ran back to the truck and headed once again toward the Russian River. (As a side note, a couple days later I read in the local newspaper that the bear had actually been shot in two places and apparently was too injured to get up. The Fish & Game people eventually put her out of her misery, and they found no cubs with her. One observer was ticketed for harrasing the wildlife after he threw stones at it to get it to stir. I hope the ticket was a big one.) On the road again to the Russian River, we got way-layed once again, this time by a massive log cabin souvenier shop. It wasn't the typical junk store, but sold only top quality artfully hand crafted items by the Native Alaskans. Each item was extremely unique and beautiful in its own way. Using whale bone, indiginous trees, Alaskan jade, and other local materials, the Alaskans created expressive carvings of local wildlife, native peoples, their families, homes and activities. I fell in love with a carving from a tree in the shape of a Bald Eagle's nest holding the mama Eagle protecting her two chicks, while the papa flies in with food in his mouth for them. The expressions on their faces told the story of their devotion to each other and their chicks. If we lived in a house that had room for it, and if we had $5,000 just laying around, I would have owned it. Jean fell in love with a wall hanging made from whale bone. It apppeared to be soft and pourous, but it was quite hard and a light black color. The carving depicted a mother holding her child, displaying the family bond within the Native Alaskan culture. Lucky for Jean, she does live in a house with room for her wall hanging and it didn't cost $5,000, so I'm sure by now she has it hanging in her dining room to remind her of her trip to Alaska.

So, we finally made our way to the Russian River, found the guys not too happy with their paultry catch, but happy to have had the experience of the great "fishing line" of men standing nearly shoulder to shoulder, casting and reeling in tandem, all in hopes of catching the big one. Little did they know that he was already hanging on the wall at Louies, just waiting for them to sit down to a platter of restaurant bought salmon! The joke was on them.