Sourdough.

The Sourdough bar. Right in the heart of the metropolis known as Ketchikan. It's been over a week since I was there, but I feel compelled to talk about it. You know how there are stereotypes of "fisherman bars"? Well this embodies that completely. First of all--smoking in public places is still allowed in the great state of Alaska. This really sets the mood as soon as you walk in. But there's much more. Wood-paneled walls as in the basements of our suburban homes in the 80's which at that point were somewhat out-dated and seemed from the decade before. Cigarette stained pictures of boats, boat wrecks, nets with thousands of pounds of salmon falling onto the dock, and of course fisherman themselves with huge white beards and 50's looking raingear all cover the walls in here. It's so dark inside like something out of a depressing film, full lonely people at the bar who are all there by themselves even though it's pretty much full. In the back the obligatory pool tables and dart boards, the darts look rather new (the digital, plastic kind) but the felt on the tables has certainly seen better days.
Other than the darts, the only sign of the 21st century is the digital jukebox blaring Bon Jovi and Eagles songs all night. The place truly feels like a time-warp, back to a time that I've never experienced, yet still feel a sort of nostalgia for. Why can't we go back to the times when there weren't plastic pull tabs on all of our food products? To the times when a can of beer at the bar costs 50 cents? To the times when the future didn't look so bleak? The times when people seemed more alive, less apathetic, less isolated?
I have never known these times.

First week. Ketchikan. Enjoying it while we're here.

6/23/11
Wow--the trip up felt like forever! Maybe it was having a fourth person on the boat. I didn't feel crammed in, or claustrophobic. I don't know what it was. Yes, it felt like a long time, I don't think it was the extra crew-woman though. Speaking of it was so nice to have her on board! She was such a sweet lady and a great cook too!
How about when we were cleaning the first set of fish of the season, about 200 fathoms from the Canadian border and the Alaska State Troopers board the boat to check all of our crew licenses and Pete's permit, and Kris says to the cop that she's not working, just up for the trip, but "I have been coooking". Oh no! Apparently you can do nothing but sit if you're not crew. I can't remember if Pete said it was a $600 or $800 dollar ticket, either way, no bueno.

Josh, the other deckhand said he wants to keep a log of funny quotes from Pete and me this summer. I didn't really realize how prime this idea was until we were docked in a pretty busy harbor and Josh didn't want to poop in our regular receptacle (a 5 gallon bucket) because of privacy, so he asked Pete if there were a public restroom somewhere, and after thinking about it for a couple of seconds, he responds with: "Well, I think maybe you should just try to sneak one in the stern".
Priceless.

Leaving Portland Today.

This is the last day at Ongford, my great apartment. We're stopping at Mt. St. Helens for the night to camp and relax before the long summer.

Don't know if I'm prepared, musically, for the summer. I've been downloading songs for the last month, but are you really ever at the point where you feel you're complete? Especially when you will be in the middle of nowhere for three months.

I hope it doesn't rain this weekend.