I'd keep describing their shenanigans, except I wouldn't want to scandelize -- now Whitney and Meg are imitating fish related dance moves (ie the hook and reel in). I think this is their way of preparing for tomorrow's fishing trip with our new friend, Tyler, who is a Sitkan born and raised. I suspect Meg and Whitney a little riled up after Tyler's called us with an update: the island we're fishing at has had an "aggressive bear" sighting. He wants to know if we are still in- he certainly wasn't going to let the bear stop him. And this is in character, considering last night we met the two bear pelts of his massive pelt collection. Are they called pelts went they have the whole head and face, teeth and a fake tongue? Roaring out at you as you turn the corner from his kitchen to the living room? Hmm. Things to make sure to ask Tyler tomorrow... along with asking for more stories about his years as a sled dog handler in Fairbanks, and checking he brought his rifle to kill any 300 pound Halibut that might sink our little skiff... or now possibly shooting any aggressive, attacking brown bear. In the shoulder, so they can't run at you. See, I'm learning.
For those wanting to read more about the brown bear sitch: (Mom, please don't read this, it will only worry you. I really am safe, since I'm almost always with other boisterous twenty somethings giggling as loud or louder than I usually do). The more realistic scenario is being caught without a rifle, and in that case you stand your ground and yell salutations, for example "Ooooh Hey Bear" in an Alaskan accent. (similar to Canadian) My housemates have been practicing on each other, don't you worry. They are now bear experts after an hour long conversation with our new friend Patrick, who works at fish and game or something along those lines and had to skin the euthenized the brown bear that was recently hit by two cars on the road I bike to go to work. (Hrmmm. You're not supposed to run from a bear, but no one has given me a straight answer to the pertinent question, "can you bike from a bear?") Apparently there are a lot of brown bears by the Indian River this time of year, when the salmon 1) spawn, 2) jump like mexican jumping beans and then 3) die. The circle of life, just around the river bend.
Needless to say, for the past two weeks I have been away from internet, at orientation at a camp in Oregon, and now settling into Sitka accumulating blogworthy experiences. It has now gotten a little intimidating to sit down and try to do them justice. So, I'll do my best to do start at the very beginning (a very good place to start).
ahem.
So as my title hints, I still had some gear to pack in my metaphorical wagon before I headed out to JVC orientation in Oregon. I went to the rain gear mecca, the original REI in Seattle with my rain experienced older bro. Got me some rain pants (named Taku, after an alaskan windstorm, nice), got me some weather-proof gloves, and a sweet rain jacket with a zip-out down liner. I've worn every piece of gear in my first 4 days here in Sitka. Scarily enough, this is the month with the best weather out of the whole year... hrm. More on the last essential piece of my Sitka wardrobe, Xtra Tufs in a later post. Those necessitate some good pics. :)
The evening we saw fresh and funny improv, I snapped a photo of "Eileen's Court" (see the pic above with two red cars, it might not be legible) somewhere in the Broadway area of Seattle, I think. Another highlight included a rambling journey to the Seattle library via a closed freeway with the Wench herself.
Friday, August 1st I biked from my brothers apartment at Green lake to Sunset Hill. After getting confused by signs to dog parks and closed roads, I parked my bike and hiked down to the beautiful Golden Gardens beach. I wrote in my journal "I'm here at a park overlooking the Puget Sound.... I love all the boats, the blue water and sky, the clouded mountains... I does seem awfully big. I think I've already fallen in love with Sitka Sound." I don't want to give away too much, but the Puget has nothing on Sitka. Nothing.
