People committed to going fiddlehead picking. Then as usual, one by one, they drop out. But not Samuel. He’s in. I pick him up at 530 and we head to Eaglecrest. This is his 3rd annual trip. It’s a beautiful day. Clouds are moving in and gonna rain tomorrow. But today, partly sunny still and 60 degrees. Perfect weather. We head across the muskeg to the creek. Samuel is talking a mile a minute. Asking all kinds of questions about where we’re going, how long till we get there, will we find the waterbottle he lost last year. I turn around and point to the peak of a mountain that’s behind where we parked the car. I tell them that’s what we aim for when we come back so we come right to the car.  We hike down to the creek. We walk upstream till I see the tree across the creek I crossed last week. A hand hold here and there so not trying to balance beam the whole way across. I cross. He struggles to get up the side of the root wad to the tree trunk, then makes it, and crosses without trepidation. Samuel knew there’s be devils club galore but forgot his gloves. I’m all about experiential learning. He complains about the devils club, as I press on with my gloves, moving it aside and heading up hill. I clear most of the devils club and wait to be sure Samuel sees me. Then I continue. Soon, we’re up in the alder patch on the hillside. The fiddleheads have grown 8 inches high in places, but in the shady spots, they are still just coming up through the dead grass. I show Samuel what to pick. He continues talking while I pick. I fill one nut jar. Then a second. Samuel is still talking. Soon, he’s off to a patch of snow up the hillside.  Then he announces he has to go “number 2”. On Samuel’s first trip 3 years ago, he didn’t know how to take a leak in the woods. Now he’s veteran of all bodily functions in the out of doors. He asks if I have any toilet paper. I say no. I usually use a piece of devils club to wipe. I can’t see him, but am guessing he’s using snow or moss or whatever is handy. In no time, I’ve got my nine jars filled and ask Samuel where is his jug. He says it’s up here. I climb up to get it and he comes down to meet me with it. I tell him I’ll finish picking the last jar. I get in front of him far enough that he can’t see and dump the few fiddleheads he’d picked in case he picked any post “number 2”.  I start filling it and he asks where are the one’s he picked and I lie and say I added them to my other jars of fiddleheads and he accepts that and I continue to pick.   Soon, all 10 jars are filled and we head back. I find a better path to the creek with not so many devils club and Samuel is happy for that. We cross the same tree, and then back up the hill. I ask him where we’re supposed to be heading and he says the mountain peak.  Good boy, I think. Soon we’re in the open heading across the muskeg. We talk about the scout trip and I ask if he apologized to his friend Oliver about a rough housing incident and he said he did. I hope he gets it. We drive back talking about whatever. He plays with the GPS map in the electric car. I show him how we gain miles to go as we descend the mountain.  I drop him off and then head home. I’m dying to try a new way to clean fiddleheads my boss told me she saw on Facebook. Put them in a game bag and put in the dryer. Sounds about right. I get home, and Sara finds me a pillow case to use. I pour in 5 of the jars and put an overhand knot in the top and into the dryer.  Worked like a freakin’ dream.

Sam’s WEEBLOS scoutmaster sent out an email plea. He’d inadvertently scheduled the big end of season overnight hike the same evening as his son’s school play. Could someone take the kids out and in and he’d be in later? When I didn’t see anyone respond – shoot, I’m guessing all the parents had already made plans with Junior out of the house for the evening – then a second email indicating they’d have to cancel if no adult could help – I said okay. Fat boy was in.

A 4.5 mile hike in to the Peterson Lake cabin, where I’d never been. The scoutmaster gave me instructions for gear to bring and logistics. I got my pack together and met the scouts the next evening for the drive out to the trail head. My friend Ron was always telling stories of scouting. How it didn’t really matter if the scout had the right boots or clothes. When they all got together, it was about being with your buds on an outing. Kids are tough. Especially when not with their parents.

We got to the trail head and got started about 4:30. The boys had all manner of packs. Samuel had basically a bookbag with a sleeping bag hanging off it. That can’t be comfortable. He never said a word. Just like Ron said. The boys immediately started talking and didn’t stop for 2.5 hours. This was a social event. Not physical exertion. The 3/4 of a mile was actually packed gravel. Then it gave way to an old mining tram trail. We stopped at the falls. As we worked our way along Peterson creek up the drainage to the lake, we started walking on 2×12 planks and other wooden structures that were either over the muskeg swampy portions, or crossed creeks and other rough parts in the rainforest. Up we climbed. The boys talking. I just let my mind wander. I showed the boys how the new buds on devils club were edible, and they tried them. I saw twisted stalk here, too, which is another forest edible I’d just learned.

We got into the heavy forest on mile 3. Lots of root wads and mucky areas. This turned out to be the toughest part of the trail. By this time, it was a scout Ben and me bringing up the rear. Ben had a pack that was almost too big for his skinny frame. The shoulder straps were falling off his shoulders and he was struggling. I had a full frame pack with cooking gear, food and all my stuff and it wasn’t feasible that I just take his pack. I saw the shoulder straps weren’t snug, so I tightened those and then had him tie the tag ends of the shoulder straps around his waist. That helped, he said.

We saw open country ahead. I see the cabin he said. Then we realized it wasn’t the cabin. But it was the lake. He knew the cabin was near, and never said another word about his pack. He let out a whoop and picked up his pace. Kids are tough. The cabin was still another half mile it turns out. It was at the distant end of the lake. But we’d knew we’d made it. When we reached the cabin, the boys did not sluff their packs and collapse in exhaustion like me. They saw a dock with a boat. They grabbed life jackets and soon were out with Josh, the Jesuit Volunteer who is the assistant scout leader, on the dock and launching the boat. Like they just got up in the morning. I broke out the new Jet Boil stove my brother in law had gifted me at Christmas. I got some tannic water from the forest creek, and cranked it up. Soon, I was sipping instant coffee.

I relaxed while the boys yelled instructions to each other on the lake in the boat. As darkness set it, they came back to the cabin. We figured out the propane stove and got some heat in the cabin. Josh set up a tent in case we needed to sleep overflow outside, and I helped him with the set up and knots. A great young man from Long Beach, he’d not spent much time in the woods and wanted to learn. I got Mac and cheese going for dinner. It was the kind you need butter and milk, but their was no butter or milk. I just poured the cheese packets on the cooked pasta and stirred it up. The boys didn’t care. They were hungry and no parents to whine to.

Hooters were talking all across the little ridge across the lake. I noted it could be a good place to come up and hunt. Hike in day 1. Hunt day 2 and 3. Hike out day 4. Eventually, they got their bunks staked out and their sleeping bags set up. The scoutmaster and his son were on their way in the near dark to join us. The boys in the cabin were talking about all order of things. And making farting sounds and laughing like crazy. Josh and I had our sleeping bags on the floor and were immune to the banter. The scoutmaster and son showed up at just about pitch dark. The scouts heard them coming and went silent. As the scoutmaster came in and was trying to be quiet, I said the boys were nowhere close to asleep. At this, they scouts erupted and welcomed in the scoutmaster’s son and the yakking was back on.

I slept terribly on the hard floor and thin sleeping pad I knew would do little for padding as Sam was snoring in his bag with no pad at all. Kids are tough. As I turned over in the middle of the night, the back of my thigh cramped up bad. Took that about 10 minutes to finally not be on a hair trigger to cramp, and I got back to resting. I got little actual sleep but already saw this coming, so accepted it. I can do anything for a night.

Today we were all up early. The kids put their sleeping bags away, then were back out on the lake in the boat. Not a sore muscle in them. I got water going for instant coffee and popped more ibuprofen. Light rain and fog had sent in overnight. By mid morning, fog had rolled in from up the mountain, and you couldn’t see across the little lake. The boat back on the dock, and the kids ate breakfast and we packed up to leave. By the time we left at 11, the fog had lifted, the rain stopped, and it was going to be nice weather for the hike out. I was surprisingly spry and ready to go. The hike out was a lot easier. Downhill, but not too steep. We knew about how far we had gone and had to go by landmarks we noted coming in. The scoutmaster made frequent stops for rests and more yakking. I would catch up to the group, and keep going and they’d catch up again. I like to keep going. I don’t need rests as my knees can start to get stiff. When we hit the packed gravel, we knew we were close. Then we could hear and then see cars. We were back. The boys will remember this trip the rest of their lives.

Now, I get scouting.

This was definitely the earliest in the year I’ve picked fiddleheads.  It’s maybe a 1/4 mile from the road to my spot.  As I clamored across the tundra and down the hill to cross the creek, I noticed the devils club had no buds – not a single bud out yet.  I’d never picked fiddleheads when the buds weren’t out as I’d get some buds on my may there and back.  So, I was a bit doubtful the fiddleheads would be up yet. The creek was running pretty hard.  I walked along till I found a tree across that I thought I might not fall off of, and made it across.  As I headed through the forest up hill to the open hill side, I saw a few scrawny fiddleheads but nothing to stop for.   When I got to the hillside, there were still no devils club with buds.  But I did see some green false hellebore growing up the hill in the sun, so I headed up there.  I finally found a good patch of fiddle heads.  They were just barely up through the dead ground grass. When I pulled the grass back, there was lots of fiddleheads.  Very close to the ground and with a full brown sheath.   As I picked and picked, a hooter hooted up on the hillside.  I thought, maybe this is how old age is gonna be.  I can’t get up to the hooters anymore, but can still enjoy them while I’m down here picking fiddleheads. John Cox introduced us to twisted stalk when he was here, then I read about it on http://www.foodabe.com written by another forager in Juneau. I found some on the hill, but it was just starting, as were the nettles, so I left them for a little later.  I’m not much on the nettles, but looks like you can just eat twisted stalk raw as a salad and that sounds good.  Dick Proeneke used to eat fireweed shoots all summer at Twin Lakes.  I know where theres lots here but it’s near the busy road.  The twisted stalk just might be the thing.  I picked 10 Costco nut jars of fiddleheads and that was just about right.  The sun was touching the mountain and about to go down.   I found my way back to the same tree to cross the creek, then up into the sunlight again across the muskeg to the car.   We got an electric car and I was interested to see what it would do going down hill.  When I started out it said I had 31 miles left.  When I got down the mountain, I was up to 45.  Not bad. 

I canned the remaining 2016 king salmon from our freezer last night.  On Sunday, I pulled all the fish, let it partially thaw, then removed the skin and cut the fish into cubes and put in the fridge to finish thawing.   I went up to the garage to sort through our canning jars to get all the same size opening (standard) and same size jar (pint).  I also grabbed lids and rings. I ran the jars through the dishwasher.  When I got home from work last evening, I started loading the jars.  I also put a little pot of water on the stove, brought the water to a boil, then turned off the heat and put the lids in the water.  We’ve got this cool collapsable funnel that fits in the jar mouth.  This keeps debris off the rim of the jar.  The rims were so clean after filling the jars I didn’t have to wipe them.  I then found another trick tool – a plastic stick with a magnet on the end – and used this to pull the lids one at a time from the hot water to put on the jar, then with my finger pressing in the center of the jar lid, I put the ring on that holds the lid on, screwing it till just snug. I garage saled a little propane boat stove a few years ago.  I hooked up the propane bottle to it in the garage, and then put the canner together.  I put the seal in the lid, the basket and plate in the bottom, and grabbed a second plate that goes over the first layer of jars to which I set the second layer of jars.  Then I put a third plate upside down on top of the second layer, to keep them from moving around as much.  I filled the jar up till water was about 2/3 up the side of the bottom layer of jars, put on the lid, put the rocker weight in my pocket, and took the filled pot up to the garage and onto the lit stove.   I knew it would take a while for the canner to come up to a boil, so I left it on the stove and started hauling firewood from my splitting pile to the wood bin.  After 3 wheelbarrow loads, I climbed into the bin and stacked what I’d hauled.   I checked on the canner, and when it started to steam, I went inside and put the timer on for 10 minutes.  After 10 minutes, I returned and put the weight onto the nipple on the 10 lbs hole, then did a few projects in the garage while the canner built pressure.  I drilled out and re-riveted an aluminum step ladder.  Then repaired the paint holder on another step ladder.   Then put away some tools.  Finally, the weight started rocking.  I returned to the house and set the timer to an hour and 20 minutes. I had a few cubes of salmon left over.  I put these in some balsamic vinegar, olive oil and soy sauce to mainate, and some rice in the rice cooker.  Then chopped and fried some celery, onion and garlic in olive oil.  When these got soft, I made a hole in the middle of the vegetables in the pan, then put in the cubes of salmon and the marinade.  I turned the cubes once, let them cook another minute, then turned off the heat. Sara came home from yoga, and dinner was ready.  She likes that. When the canner timer chimed, I turned off the heat and set the canner on the concrete floor to cool till morning.  I then backed the electric car into the garage, plugged it in, and went to bed. This morning, I got up early to see the results.   All the lids sealed properly.  I wiped each jar, labeled the lid with a marker, removed all the rings, then turned the jars upside down on a cloth.  I’ll pack them in a box and put in the pantry.  17 jars, and still a few jars of pink salmon left from a few years ago, so we’re good for awile.  Knees still a little achy and stiff from Friday’s hooter hunt.   Life is good.

Kurt and I went on the other side of the island to hooter hunt today. I let Kurt off, idled out and anchored the boat, then as I got into the punt, I proceeded to sink it. Had my life jacket on, which was good. I pulled my lard ass over the transom, then pulled the anchor, went to the beach and drained the punt, and tried again. Made it in this time. Kurt had an extra shirt and we wrung out my fleece pants. I just left my wet feet wet. We headed uphill towards the hooter we heard calling.  We hiked about an hour up the hill till we got to the first bird. I saw the bird, and shot with the 12 ga. The bird flushed to the next tree. I tried again, and he flew off. We think the old ammo I had from Sara’s dad was no good, so we used Kurt’s .22 over .410 the rest of the day.

We harvested 5 birds after the first miss – all within about 1/8 mile of each other. The climb down was torturous. I used to scoff when people older than me told me it was harder going down hill than uphill. It now is harder. We came down a different path than we went up, but not by much. But it was much steeper, and killer on my knees.  Must have been at least an hour on the way down. Maybe more.  Luckily, we came out right at the boat, which was lazily at anchor and a welcome site. There was wolf scat and tracks on the beach. Both of us thought we heard dogs up the hill and maybe the wolves were nearby but we never saw them. I only had one Genny Creme in the boat, and Kurt and I split it.   At the harbor, it was a painful walk up the dock to the truck. We got the boat back to the house. I took the wings and legs from Kurt’s birds, and sent him on his way. Then I cleaned my 3 birds and all the wings and legs and put them in saltwater and into the fridge. Could not have a better day when we were hunting. Even after my dunking. Birds hooting everywhere once we got up to them. The trek out was not as much fun and definitely can’t do that hunt two days in a row. Beautiful dry spring walk in the woods and a thunderdome of hooters.

Just returning from 2 weeks in Craig. We got power to our container unit. Paul, a 70 something electrician, Veteran, and rabblerouser, helped us get hooked up, despite our errors. Our big error was wiring from the house directly to the meter side instead of the customer side. Since the conduit was already in, we couldn’t just move the wires over. Paul got his special “Hot Dogger” that is two smoker heating elements in a sort of metal tool box, with a V snipped out at each end for the conduit to lay in. He calculated the angle and length of bends needed, and it worked great. Of course this took about 3 times the time we would have needed so it was building tuition. I took Paul for lunch and he told me his story of how he came from Arkansas to Alaska.

I got two windows cut into the container. The first one took all the worry and thinking and after Brian helped me get it in, we had it figured out and the second one went in easily. Except that I broke one of the big windows trying to do too much of the window install myself, so now we’ll have two big and a medium window on the ocean side, and only 1 medium window on the road side. More construction tuition. When I finally got the second window in with Kevin’s help. I thought that was about what I could do and not be rushed. I looked up the mileage tickets on Thursday, and Friday’s late Ketchikan to Juneau flight was the cheapest, so I made reservations and called it a trip. I was most concerned with having to cut the container and that turned out to be the easiest and quickest part. A metal cutting skill saw blade and it went through it easier than it does two by four lumber.

Working on the container has helped me get more familiar with Craig – which stores have which products. Craig has a Tyler Rental, a True Value hardware store, and a Napa Auto parts store, and between the three, they had about everything I needed, from tools to hardware.

We got out king salmon fishing 3 times. The first day we got 4 (I think), the second day we got one in a quick trip, and today we got 7. When I told Brian I was leaving yesterday, he scheduled a fishing trip per standard procedure at the last minute, and told me through my bedroom door as I drifted off he’d wake me to go. We got up about 540 am and off to the boat shortly after 6. We took the dogs and Mike and Spencer met us to go, too. Of course we got back with just enough time for me to pack up the fish and my few belongings and put things away and I didn’t get to vacuum my room but we made it to the airport in Klawock in time. Mike and Spencer went with Brian and I today and it was great weather. After seeing few whales there seemed to be lots moving north today. I’m taking 2 of the kings home whole from today’s catch. Tomorrow is the first day of a 2 month closure for king fishing near Juneau because of the poor forecast for the Taku and Chilkat rivers, so it’ll be a treat for our friends to help us eat them this weekend. I also brought back a gallon of squid we caught off Randy’s dock. I’ll share those with my co workers who covered my work while I was gone. I called in to the fuel distributor and put money on Brian’s accoun. That saves him from being embarrassed to take gas money from me and me the embarrassment of having to beg him to take it. Not to mention feeding and housing me for 2 weeks. We’ve got enough salmon for the year now it looks like.

On our way home today we went to a landing of an old logging depot to get Brian’s 4 wheeler left there from deer hunting season. We saw a big black bear patrolling the beach on the way there – one of the first sightings of the year.

Brian lent me a bunch of tools for working on the container, and I brought them back to return to his shop. I loaded them in a wheelbarrow, and as I climbed a driveway behind the shop, I found a sharp shinned hawk dead in the path. Freshly dead it looked like. I’d never seen one so close, and Ellen was going to take i. to the Forest Service people to see.

I got to go with Ellen and Mike K to collect some trail cameras near Craig. They were set up to shoot wolves coming to a scent post. Both cameras had photos of wolves, and it was my first inkling of what the cameras could be used for that I thought was interesting. I found out Mike was sending a car to Juneau for warranty work and then back to Craig, so poor Mike is going to have to unload a whole pile of our stuff when the car gets back because it didn’t arrive while we were there but we are grateful for the free transport. Sara has made several trips taking stuff out to the car as I think of it, and she finally cut me off when there was no more room.

Brian and Ellen have a brand new chocolate lab pup and are also taking care of Melissa’s little beagle while she’s been on extended travel in the South Pacific. The dogs are a lot of work at this age and lots of cleaning up after them.

Lots left to do on the container and the property to get the water hooked up, a septic system installed, and finish filling the trench Brian dug with the skid steer for the electric line. Summer season is on it’s way as our first whale watch company meeting is next week. I kind of dread the summers now as it’s both my regular job and the weekend job on the whale watch boat, but of course I only do the captain job because I like it. Still, it means fewer trips to the cabin. I’m looking forward to retirement from my state job so I can go fishing again.

Our electric car is already in Juneau. Sara test drove one I saw on Craigslist in Monterey when she was down there, and even with the $2,300 freight to send it by truck to Seattle and then up on the barge, it was still a good deal compared to other used Leafs I’d seen for sale. I’m excited for the first time to own a particular vehicle – before this, automobiles were just transportation. This electric car seems like the perfect option for Juneau.

Another highlight of the trip was being in town for Island Air Express’s annual customer appreciation day that I attended with Ellen. From a start of about 12 people their first year, some 500 people attended this one. Really, really good smoked pork sandwiches, coleslaw and beans. Then a bunch of door prizes – mostly free flights, but also hats and a Stihl chainsaw. Ellen won a shirt and a hat. I met some fun friends of Ellens that are parts of big families in Klawock, Craig and Juneau.

We didn’t get over to Etolin hooter hunting but Brian got his four wheeler today and sounded like he would soon go over. We thought we might go hooligan fishing up the Stikine, too, but they didn’t show up in numbers enough to make him want to go just yet.