I noticed a few other folks come in the door and thread through the space in front of the bar. They mentioned something to a couple of friends then left without getting a beer. One by one, the bar emptied, and locals flowed out the door like a dam broke.
Read MoreI rolled out of my sleeping bag, still in my clothes, and pulled on a pair of brown hiking boots while my friend Katy hollered, “C’mon, get up. The fish are biting!” My first thought, How the hell does she know that standing outside the VW van? Katy is magic like that. We loaded backpacks with rope, food, a couple of thermoses full of hot chai tea, filet knives, and a cutting board, and some extra layers of clothing. It was early July, 2011 at 11 pm, and the sun was sinking below the mountain to the west of fish camp.
Read MoreMcCarthy, Alaska wrecked my life. I had a map and a compass heading, that felt sure and steady. I put roots down in a sweet mountain valley in Southern Oregon with lush, organic farms and down-to-earth people choosing to live close to the land. Williams, Oregon is the good guy. The one you know you should date because he’s good for you - kind, gentle, wise, responsible. Safe. McCarthy, Alaska is the bad boy. The one you burn for in the middle of the night - risky, spontaneous, erratic, beautiful. Dangerous.
Read More
