RVing….
Sitting in a lawn chair at the back of the motorhome watching the last bright rays of the sun cap the mountains across the bay. It’s 11:30pm. Otters float on their back in the surf eating shellfish and keeping an eye on the tourist. To the left a huge yellow and blue tanker (?) sits at dock. The cruise ship with cabins stacked like so many cages backed out and turned around about 4 hours ago to sail to it’s next tourist port of call. Blogging in the twilight….
Seward. Thinning city traffic out of Anchorage then 3 hours south on the Seward Highway. Sharing the road with an amazing assortment of RVs we cruise along in the Dillon’s 31 footer with emerald green mountains and patches of snow on the left and gray mud flats of low tide of the Turnagein Arm on the right, separated from the same gray of the sky by the black and white mountains of the Kenai interior. The road ends at the Alasska Sealife Center on 4th Ave. We back into space RS37 at the end of a long line of land yachts at Waterfront RV and Campground overlooking Resurrection Bay. For 15 bucks a night we get front row no hoop up seats for the ever changing show of weather across the bay.
(Above the rhythmatic soft pound of the sea onto the shore, I can hear the gnawing and crunching of the otter’s teeth on shell as he effortlessly floats on his back enjoying dinner.)
A short walk up the hill into downtown, lunch is at Cristo’s Palace. Good pizza and friendly service. The waiter with a tongue stud from Utah and the hostess from Turkey with a very cute accent. Afterwards Sarah and Nichole straight stitch it directly to the Flying Skein yarn store. The Seward Alehouse is next door. The Eagles are playing on the juke box as pool balls click. An elderly native woman with a very pale gossak (white man) drinks rose’ and methodically open pull-tab lottery tickets across the bar talking it up with the single native girl across from them. All are smoking as the Aussie bartender keeps patient bored watch.
Spent yesterday with Sarah’s dad, Wayne, getting lined out on the motorhome; generator here, fresh water tank drained and refilled, gray water drained there, black water drained--all over Wayne’s hand!, airbags checked, refrigerator on/off, inverter access, spare tire access crank, awing crank, stabilizer crank, emergency slide-out crank, check, check and check. Spent the evening with Nichole. Dinner at Humpies: a huge bowl of steamer clams in a rich cream broth with lots of fresh bread for me and perfectly cooked halibut dribbled with a delicate jalapenio sauce for the girls. Spinning lessons at Nichole’s apartment as her dog crunches noisily on a nylon bone and I nap on a too small couch procured from the local dumpster. This morning bags are packed and stowed, emergency rations purchased, mirrors adjusted and the rig gingerly backed out to the street. The adventure begins…………
S and N bounced down the street into the Sew’n Bee Cozy Fabric store. I bounced into the Yukon Bar. A lukewarm Alaskan White Ale from Juneau under a ceiling covered wall to wall with signed dollar bills. A fire hazard for sure, a custom started during one of our great wars--sailors about to ship out would tack a greenback with their name on it to the ceiling assuring their return and guaranting a pre-paid drink. A more somber local crowd here. The Rolling Stones playing “You Can’t Always Get What You Want”. Bathroom lined with worn rough hewn lumber with graffiti on every available surface. I’m impressed with the motivation of the guy who got on his hands and knees next to the urinal to fill in space there. Sitting next to the sink is a ½ gal. of Gojo pumice hand soap available at all fine Knecht’s everywhere!
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