iPhoning it with Rex and Ama by the Little Su, where a spineless moose lost his head - and his antlers, too

Rex and his girlfriend Ama showed up yesterday about 1:00 PM. They had wanted to take Margie and me out to lunch, but Margie had gone to town to babysit Kalib and Jobe, so they just took me. Afterwards, Rex drove Ama through his boyhood haunts toward the Little Su.

To Rex, as it is for me, the tour was one of lament, for what he saw was all the places that had been so wild and free now ruined and cut off by the development that has put an end to the hiking, skiing, and mountain biking that we used to do through all this country, but can't do anymore.

To Ama, who grew up in New York and now hails from the San Francisco Bay area, it appeared as though we were driving through a rural, nearly pristine area, with just a few houses here and there, and a gas station.

Ama and Rex met last summer when she came to Alaska to do some adventuring and they hit it off. She had a great time in Alaska and did some things that I still haven't done - such as kayak in Prince William Sound, but she was pretty certain that she would not want to be a winter-time Alaskan.

Rex went and spent some time with her in the Bay area in September and, judging from Facebook, they had a great time.

Now she is back in Alaska. She might have even found a job here. She is ready to try winter-time Alaska, ready to become an Alaskan.

You will note how bundled up she is - hat, gloves, multi-layers and what she probably believes to be a winter coat.

You will note how Rex is not bundled up at all.

I was even less bundled.

It's often like that, when people come to visit from other places. 

Next year, I suspect, she will be dressed just like us.

To me, the air only seemed disgustingly warm for this time of year. The ground should be covered in snow. All the lakes should be frozen over. Some are, and some are freezing, but some have little ice at all.

The bank of the Little Su should be completely rimmed in ice.

It's disgusting, really. I can hardly stand it.

The other day we were talking with Jacob and Lavina about Halloween, and how the kids would go out, sometimes in sub-zero weather, and come back with icy pant legs and their costumes crisp and frozen.

It could still happen that way this year, but I wouldn't count on it.

Rex skips a rock.

What is that he has spotted? A log, drifted almost to the bank?

Why, it's a moose head! As you can see, someone has cut the antlers away from the skull. Soon, perhaps, they will hang on someone's wall, or be placed over a doorway or put on display in a yard. Maybe they already have been.

I wonder where the moose was shot and butchered? This is a place by the road and bridge where many people gather to picnic, skip rocks, cast a line, drink beer, smoke dope or do whatever. It would be very rude to butcher a moose in such a place and just leave the leftovers behind, so I speculate that perhaps it was done upstream and the skull just washed to this place.

A short distance away, we found the spine. There was a significant amount of moose hair on the rocks on the bank.

So I am not sure. It might have drifted down, but someone might have butchered it right here.

Coming into the main channel is a little estuary that has frozen over. 

Whoever left this to freeze into the estuary definitely is rude. I hate to say it, but an awful lot of this kind of thing happens around here.

There are many people who live in this area who do not know where they live.

Oh, yes - they will tell you, perhaps proudly, "I live in Alaska!"

But they don't even know it.

Frozen moose print. I had forgotten my camera, by the way. I had to take all these pictures with my iPhone. I like the iPhone camera, but the lens has become very smudged and hazy.

Ama studies the scientific properties of a frozen puddle.

I find a nice little shell along the bank - a 9 mm. I still have it. It's in my pocket.

Ama observes a scorched tree trunk. Trees here do not have long tap roots that extend deep into the ground. Here, the roots spread out beneath the tree and form a platform for it.

Rex gets an idea for some iron art involving salmon that he wants to create. So he takes a few pictures of this dead one for later study.

The dead salmon.

Later, we go to Little Miller's for coffee as we listen to the afternoon news on the radio. We could not go to Metro, because Metro is closed on Sundays.

The lady at the window accepts Rex's cash.

Such was Sunday.

Now it is Monday.

I don't want to do anything.

I suppose that I had better.

I am tired, though. Really, really, tired.

I don't want to do anything.

But how can I do nothing at all?

That would be boring.

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Paul Herbert, "Snook," cuts the fish he caught in his wheel - Part 2 of 2

The fish that Paul Herbert, "Snook" caught in his fishwheel have been put on the cutting table, directly in front of his smokehouse.

Snook has sharpened his knife. He feels the edge. It is smooth and sharp, ready to slice through salmon flesh.

Just as he learned to do as a boy while living with his grandmother, Belle Herbert, Snook cuts his fish. He works swiftly and expertly.

He fillets a salmon, leaving the two halves connected at the tail.

He cuts the end off at an angle, to create a shape that will facilitate the drying process.

Pushing down hard, Snook runs the knife over the cut fish in a way that will squeeze out the blood. Too much blood left behind could ruin the meat.

Snook makes angle cuts through the flesh at regular intervals. 

Each cut leaves a clean strip of white on the inside of the skin. This will allow the skin to stretch so that the segments of cut meat are separated through the drying and smoking process.

Applying considerable pressure, Snook runs the knife over the salmon skin to begin the stretching process.

He soaks the cut fish in brine for a spell.

After the fish soak, Snook places them on a rack where they will hang briefly.

As they hang, he stretches the skin some more. He wants to be certain that segments that he has cut do not come in contact with each other, as this could cause them to spoil.

After the fish hang for a spell on the outside rack, Snook transfers them into his smokehouse.

The fish that Paul has cut hang in the smoke.

Snook had been a little worried that the big red king might have been too far along on its spawning journey, but when he cut into it, he found that the flesh was still good. He will cut this one up into sections for freezing.

He places the cuts sections in a large bowl for washing.

His wife Alma washes the cut sections.

Snook had also cut salmon strips, which he will now transfer from the outside rack into the smokehouse. Yellow jacket hornets gather around, hoping to get a share.

Harold Frost who had come from Old Crow, Yukon Territory, to play his fiddle at the Gwich'in Gathering stops by. Alma gives him a box of salmon that she had jarred the day before to put in his boat and take home with him.

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