These are the Chronicles of Famous Surf Writer Ben Marcus and his trip into the Wilds of the Alaskan Frontier.
Latest Update: October 9, 2000

9:27 - 00:30 ROOM 3 AT THE DRIFTWOOD INN, HOMER, ALASKA.

Okay, okay, I'm still in Homer. Sue me.

Truth is, I'm glad I stayed in Homer, because all that yucky weather has disappeared, and left blue skies, snow-covered mountains, volcanoes on the horizon and even a bit of surf.

Man oh man, this place is just spectacular on a day like this. The weather is as A+ as a perfect winter day in North Central California, but the scenery is surreal: glaciers, volcanos. Epic.

All that wind yesterday kicked up some swell inside Cook Inlet, and there are perfect, one-foot waves breaking all along the beach in front of the Driftwood Inn. It looks a little like Hanalei Bay in the next ice age.

If this were open ocean, Homer would be a surf spot. But I don't know how big this place gets, just on local winds. It has shape.

Anyway, this is Blue Monday after Black Sunday, as in Black Sunday for Bay Area Sports Fans.

Yesterday I watched the Giants, the 49ers and the Oakland A's all lose, and lose big.

After all that, the Giants got creamed, shut down, obliterated. They were one-hit, and almost ended up on the wrong side of history, nearly getting Perfect Gamed by the Mets.

The 49ers showed flashes of past greatness, but lost when they missed a field goal.

And the A's battled back from a 6-run first inning deficit, but couldn't pull it.

The only consolation was that the Raiders won, but who cares about the Raiders, and they had to beat the 49ers to do it.

I'd love to see the local San Francisco news and newspapers today. This was almost as horrendous as the earthquake.

After watching Oakland lose, I went outside and photographed a pretty spectacular sunset. (see attached photo). Then I drove around Homer and found a Mexican place to eat. Then I came back and watched a Steve McQueen movie.

I was watching Yojimbo around midnight when the cranky lady with the club foot kicked me out. I should have protested because I'm a paying customer and all that, but I didn't.

I'd like to see Yojimbo in full some day.

I slept in the motel room last night. Sorry Donald. I'm just a big sissy.

Now it's Blue Monday. Blue because of the Giants, but also Blue because of the weather. It's beautiful here today, but time for me to push on. No more TV and baseball vicarious emotion to hang around for. The tides should be right for a little steelhead flailing on the way out, but I am definitely on my way out.

It's Anchorage by nightfall. Maybe in time for the tidal bore.

I'm going to spend the hours until 12:00 check-out time working on my Local Knowledge column for swell.com. I told those guys that I could work from the road just as well as from Tiburon or anywhere, so I'm trying to prove it with these Local Knowledge columns. I'm going to call Jeff Clark and Peter Mel's wife and Anthony Ruffo and Wingnut and anyone else I can think of and get the scoop on surf happenings, North Central California style. I'm curious about the after-effects of the shark attack at Mavericks, and I'm always curious about what is going on in that magic strip between San Francisco and Carmel

Then I'm on the road. I'll fish on the way out, and try to get to Anchorage tonight.

I have to think about getting out of here. I can only imagine what this rainy weather in Homer is doing in the Arctic interior of Alaska.

Peter Otsea has been telling me to get chains. Yuck.

I need a Humvee.

That's all for now. Hopefully Mr. Mysterious will post the photos I sent. They are, as I have said, pretty spectacular.

Au revoir.

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