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Mountains towered and rolled in a 180-degree panorama. The sun sifted through the small breaks in the clouds, sprinkling the bay with short bursts of light. Waves crept in and out between the rock-creviced shore. Driftwood blended any barrier separating the rocky shore from the damp, greening grass. Our tent settled under leafless trees, scattered with trunks and branches squiggling the grey sky in reach what rays they could grasp.
Marya and I sat in two camp chairs. The humble crackling of the coals harmonized with the subtle crashing of the waves close by. Steam from our sweating reindeer sausages rose and filled the fresh clean air. The near by tree swing made of beach-salvaged rope and drift wood still swung from our recent attempts to reach the clouds with our feet.
All else was still. Our only reminder of civilization was the wind turbine vaguely visible on the distant range and the occasional truck crashing through the gravel road 100 yards from our backs. We were about 50 road miles from Kodiak. Our drive out towards Chiniak took us around the coast of Women’s Bay, Middle Bay, and Kalsin Bay, climbing hills and dipping back down into farmlands
were we passed Kodiak cows and horses. Our site was about a mile or so off of the paved road.
As we relaxed we were joined by a Bald Eagle who perched atop a bare cottonwood. He cried out several times to a nearby nest with a loud “Yaap-yaap-yaap.” Occasionally he called down to us with a mildly disturbing laughter, “Yee-ka-ka-ka-ka-ka.” He stayed perched above our campsite for well over 30 minutes.
As the night went on we saw a few otters poke their heads up in the bay. Ducks came and went and small Plovers scattered along on the beach as we hunted for more driftwood and large rocks to hold down the tent. Marya had offered to put her numerous sets of deer antlers to use to make up for the missing stakes, but I could foresee myself snapping a few of them and offered to scour the beach.
Despite the hissing rumors, the rain had held out and the breeze was fresh and soothing, gently wafting the smoke of our fire in a single direction. Other than winter camping, this was probably my first Alaskan camping excursion where I did not see a single
mosquito.
It was as if the universe was sending us signs that we were meant to be here.
The sun finally dipped below the mountain range a little after 11:30 pm as the tide slowly receded. We lounged by the fire and then
The evening was a little cruel. The temperatures dropped with the sun and our summer sleeping bags and lack of sleeping pads left us chilly at 30 degrees. Rain also crept in and soaked the tent before slowly creeping back out. Marya woke up around 5:30 am and got the fire started. I scavenged her sleeping bag for another layer and slept a bit longer.
Waking up to another warm, incredible fire, clearing skies, and S’mores for breakfast wiped away any sour feelings we were having. We heated up more reindeer dogs, had some coffee and rationed out our croissant and blueberry muffin. A 5 star continental breakfast to go with a 5 star experience.
Through the evening, we made a list documenting the unusually perfect turn of events. Here is the list to summarize:
- Grey skies turning into sunshine
- Beach site
- No neighboring campers
The Fire Master
Marya hauling in drift wood. - Mountains towering across the water
- Squiggly trees lofting over us
- Not a mosquito in sight
- Driftwood tree swing
- Breeze conveniently blowing smoke in one direction
- Ample driftwood supply
- Huge ass tent (8 man)
- Eagle hanging out in our site
- Otters popping up randomly
- Reindeer sausage
- S’mores for breakfast
- Sound of the waves
- View of wind turbine
- Perfectly soft cookies
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michael luhrs
non-member comment
very cool i love the eagle shot