Sitka or Bust: Commute The World

I worry that in the years to come my memories will fade and I will have to rely solely on the photographs I’ve acquired. Maybe that is why I’ve been taking so many pictures this summer Entertainment in Sitka is limited to adventuring and foolish shenanigans. I have been known to do them both, but recently, I’ve decided to adopt a photographers standpoint and just record these things so I can relive the memories in my glory days. Tonight, I egged on the money-induced and youthful foolishness that only young whipper snappers can produce. In the staff lodge is a jar of hot peppers, obviously homemade, and chock full of entire cloves of garlic, whole peppercorns, cumin, and vinegar.

A bet was waged today to eat said jar in 20 minutes for $30. No one wanted in. The total moved to $50, then $100 where eyes started to perk up. Even I was tempted, although I cannot even stomach Taco Bell’s Fire sauce and I had just shotgunned a 16 oz RedBull. My stomach was sloshy the entire night’s drive in the Punisher, and it did look like I’d wet myself while whipping shitties, alas I had only spilled a tad of the Bull when the door decided to open mid shitty. I knew I would puke as soon as the first drop of hot vinegar hit my tongue. Tempting as it was, especially considering I’ve only received one tip since I’ve been here, and it was a bag of Twizzlers.

The adventurous lad, our Processor, deliberated for a while before letting the near-instant wealth get to his head. He took it like a champ though, pounding that jar back with rapid fire speed,especially since the time limit had been lowered to ten minutes with the specification of no puking (or shitting oneself) until 20 minutes post last jalapeno, every last morsel consumed, and the juices ingested as well. It took him a whopping minute and a half to do the challenge and he earned himself almost $200 in random change and crumpled hooker money. Not only can that kid sing, but he can hold his own. I only worry that he doesn’t develop a loose O-ring tomorrow. As for now, I’ll keep the baby powder and Vaseline  stocked in the boy’s bathroom.

I saw a baby bobcat yesterday while I was on the phone. No, I wasn’t sitting at the top of a mountain or on a barely used wooded backroad, but standing a few feet from the staff house. I was within spitting distance of my kitchen window and that little kitten was wandering around right below the porch. I dropped everything I was talking about, threw out the f-bomb and crowded the railing to see the little bugger better. My mum, who was on the other end of my phone call, told me to hang up on her and get its picture, but knowing the serious limitations of my cellphone camera, I declined. A decent plan too, since the bugger heard me drop the f-bomb, casually glanced up at me, and meandered along in just enough of a hurry for me to miss it. That was pretty sweet, if you ask me.

Today, I also got to check something else off my list of “experiences to experience.” This was to accidentally wander in on someone peeing. Now, this wasn’t something I’d written into the list, but more of something that happened and, as an afterthought, had to be added only to be crossed off. You know what I’m getting at here? Its not like one day I was like, hmmm why don’t I put a sort of kinky voyeurism aspect into my to-experience list? It wasn’t like that at all, but sometimes you just have to go with the flow. Although the image of a fully grown woman peeing with the door open will probably never be erased from my mind, it is a burden I will have to bear.

The best portion of my day had to be the part where I touched an octopus. Yes, you read me correctly. Today I touched a giant pacific octopus. Another to be crossed off the list. One of our fishing charters was mooching for salmon when the angler thought he’d hooked the anchor by accident. He said it was like hooking onto a boulder on the bottom of the ocean or something, like there was no way this sucker wanted to be brought to the surface. He cranked on the rod for a while until, I can only assume, the last of the suckers released their grip on the bottom and the octopus floated to the top of the water. They peeled it off the side of the boat where it’d moored itself upon surfacing, and shoved it into a bucket, completely unsure of how to kill it.

This is how we crossed paths. I just so happened to be getting down and dirty in the PR (processing room) bagging and vacuum packing salmon, halibut, sole, and rockfish carcasses when someone told me they were hauling in an octopus. My first thought was that I wanted to hold the critter. My second was of Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea in that octopuses/octupi have deadly beak-mouths. I already avoid parrots because they generally bite me, so an octopus probably wouldn’t be any different.

I borrowed a rubber glove from a trusted individual in the PR and poked it gingerly. It immediately sucked onto my glove with its huge suction cup arm and I got really nervous that it would just overpower me and end up taking off one of my fingers. I’m sure those in the PR had my back, but nonetheless. I touched it a few more times, and realized that no matter how hard it stuck itself to my hand, if I dragged its tentacle above the water line in the bucket he would let go. I really appreciated learning that fact. I played with him a while before the guys had to pull him out and show me exactly how big he was. I thought it was pretty cool, but he also reminded me a little of silly putty, well silly putty mixed with jell-o. Nick also provoked him so I could get a look at his beak. smaller than I imagined, but I still wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end.

I worried that I would never have seen the actual Sitka, well, besides the lodge Sitka that I’ve known so well. It is quaint and rustic and whatnot, but I wanted that adventure people seek when thinking of Alaska. Give me a gold rush. That’s all I want; my own gold rush.

I went to Fortress of the Bear a few days ago with a client. Lucky me, I didn’t have to pay to get in, but I sure took a ton of pictures. I’m no doubt, a sucker for animal stories. Apparently, at this rescue, they take in abandoned or orphaned bear cubs from all over Alaska and raise them for a while until they transfer them to other locations around the world. Many are practically starved to death before they come to the Fortress, and are practically feral, but with the kindness and patience of the staff, they eventually learn to trust and become loving and extra large almost-pets. They come when called, and individually perform their own tricks before they can get their share of the given food. I find it a little demeaning to have wild animals performing tricks, but they don’t seem too bad off I suppose.

They become like children to the Fortress workers. Remember a few years back when that clip of Christian the lion went up on YouTube? I teared up a bit at the reunion and that was just watching a stupid minute long clip. Imagine hearing a first hand account of raising a cub for three years and having to send it off to a zoo in Canada. This sweet little cuddly baby you fed grapes to one by one until it trusted you enough to touch your fingertips was being sent to live elsewhere and its not like you could do anything different. Imagine going to visit after a few months and walking in the aisle of cages and saying her name only to have her turn around, poke her head through the bars, and pull you to herself with her huge paws. The man who raised her was tearing up when he told the story, which of course made me too. He said it was the closest thing to a child’s hug he’d ever felt.

I would’ve loved to have spent more time with him, but the client was getting antsy so we made haste and booked it out of the joint. I’ll be back though, gotta pick his brain about the bears. And I think I’ll send someone a bag of fur and Alaskan sand. Nothing weirder to receive in the mail than that. Also, I just wanna see this meany again. He had the smile of a velociraptor and I really wouldn’t want him coming after me. I watched him eat a chunk of meat about three feet from me and couldn’t help but fear making quick movements.