These are the Chronicles of Famous Surf Writer Ben Marcus and his trip into the Wilds of the Alaskan Frontier.
Latest Update: October 3, 2000

8:18 (Alaska time) TWO SISTERS CAFE, HOMER ALASKA

Good morning. I'm having a cuppa and a slice of day-old bread in Two Sisters Café, across from the Driftwood Inn and RV Park. I only had two dollars left in my fancy new gold Alaska money clip, but that was enough to get me started.

Did I tell you about my fancy new gold Alaska money clip? It's fancy. It shines and it has an etching of a fish on it. I've never owned a money clip, and now I do. It's fancy.

I've been thinking over the past few days that this part of Alaska is a lot like California, and the Two Sisters just confirms that. This is like any coffee shop anywhere in Berkeley or Laguna Beach. There's even a pretty girl behind the counter.

Yesterday while driving up the hill out of Homer I got a feeling of déja vu, and realized that the hills and the houses and the view over the water looked a lot like Malibu, of all places.

And then I drove (north?) as far as Ninilchik Village and flailed Deep Creek, the Anchor River and the Ninilchik River. On the road I kept flashing on the similarities to Point Arena and Gualala and all those northern California areas: similar weather, similar trees, similar kinds of businesses along the road, similar rivers.

All of the above-mentioned rivers are really nice, strong-flowing, mid-size coastal streams which remind me of similar places in California: The Garcia, the Gualala and Scott's Creek. Some of them flow along the road, and some flow through little towns and are accessible through parks, and in that way they remind me of the Russian River and the Eel River. The only difference, this is Alaska so the chances of actually catching a fish are much higher. These are serious steelhead rivers, and I'm seriously looking forward to seriously catching a serious steelhead.

I was trying for steelhead yesterday but didn't catch a one. I tried the Anchor River first with Mr. Purple and Mr. Orange, a couple of big, gaudy salmon flies I bought in Sequim. Nary a bite, although I did see a guy land a healthy, eight-pound steelhead under the bridge. It's all catch and release here, but that's fine with me.

The Anchor River was a bit of a scene. There were a lot of fishermen hanging out who came from all over, drinking beer, smoking pot and talking smack. It kind of reminded me of surfing a little.

I tied on some orange and purple-beaded salmon flies I had bought in Sequim, but didn't get a bite. I have never caught a steelhead, in all my years of flailing and I would like to some day. If I can't do it on the Kenai Peninsula, I probably never will.

I need some local knowledge, though. All of the fly shops I passed yesterday were closed, and I'm hoping they'll be open today so I can get some local flies and some waders. Need some waders. Lost without waders. Can't wade without waders, and you need to wade.

So I'm going to fish all day today, for lack of anything better to do. Tomorrow I'm going to watch the Giants beat the Mets in their first playoff game at noon.

On Thursday I've arranged a float trip on the Kenai River with Alaska Troutfitters.

And after that, I don't know. Up and out of the Kenai Peninsula. I want to try and time my drive out so I can see that tidal bore again. I keep thinking about coming back next year with Flea or Brock or someone and watching them surf it.

(There was a Mavericks show on Outdoor Life Network last night. There was Brock and Bradshaw and Foo and I kept saying, "Hey, I know that dude. I know that dude.")

Then on to Denali, I guess. And after that, I don't know.

Last night while watching Monday Night Football I got into a conversation with a guy who is a minister in Soldovia, a town across the strait from here. He had a few stories about moose.

"Moose stories," I like to call them.

On the way into Homer a few days ago, I saw several signs warning about Moose on the Road which listed the number of recent road kills at 183.

I thought, "183 dead moose? That's a lot of moose. Maybe that body count includes porcupine and moose. Or moose and squirrel."

My conversation last night confirmed that moose on the road are a real hazard. This minister from Soldovia said that moose are killed by cars all the time. Indeed, this minister from Soldovia had a friend who was killed in a moose/car accident last year.

He himself had side-swiped a moose on the road and it spun his car around on the ice and put it into a ditch.

"What were you driving?" I asked. "A Volkswagon Bug?"

"No," he said. "A Chevy Suburban."

That gave me pause.

"How was the moose?" I asked.

"Fine," he said.

A Chevy Suburban.

A moose.

The car goes into the ditch. The moose walks away.

There it is.

This guy also told me that he lived in Anchorage for many years, and used to feed his family on road kill. In Alaska you can make arrangements with the Highway Patrol to go get road kill. Not just moose that have been killed by cars, but also moose that have been injured and have lost the will to live.

"If a moose breaks a leg he won't try to live," the guy said. "It'll just lay down and die."

When that happens, when a moose is killed or is coughing up blood, the Highway Patrol will call qualifying families who will go out and slaughter the moose and take the good bits home to eat.

"Ever slaughter a moose?" he asked.

"No, dreamed about it though," I responded.

"Lot of work," he said.

"So I've heard," I said.

"We lived on moose for a long time," this pioneer said.

"How is moose?" I asked.

"It's great. Maybe not as good as a rib-eye steak or filet mignon, but still pretty good."

So, there it is.

I wonder how moose and squirrel would taste together, maybe baked in a pie.

Naw.

Anyway, that's all I have to report for now. Homer reminds me a lot of California, southern and northern, in climate and geography and flora and fauna. I'm hoping to catch a steelhead in the next couple of days, and I'm going to keep my eyes peeled for moose.

Beyond that, the road stretches ever onward.

Oh. I talked the people at Valdez into Federal Expressing me the ATM card. So that's good news. I really didn't want to drive all the way back to Valdez to get an ATM card. It's a long, long, long way.

Just read an article in SackLunch about the fall of the internet economy. It was well done, by Bill Sharp. A lot of heads rolled at BlueTorch and HardCloud in the last month. I wonder if the fact that the only thing lamer than their company names was their truly idiotic, low-quality content had anything to do with their demises.

I've said it before and I'll say it again. "Go surfing. Look around. You think you're going to make millions off these people? Not."

Anyway, off to go fishing. Hope all is well wherever you may roam.

Ben