On the big Six-Zero, I fail to go surfing in Yakutak; I do ride my bike in Wasilla, adorned by my first birthday present

Awhile back - YEARS back - I gave myself a goal for my 60th birthday. A few months back, I restated that goal here on this blog.

I would go surfing in Yakutak.

I utterly failed to meet that goal.

But today, my birthday, I did ride my bike - as you can see above. You have never seen fenders on my bike before. Caleb gave me those and put them on himself. These fenders, which will prevent the rain from being zipped up across my shirt and into my face, are the first present that I have received today - although yesterday, I stopped at Metro Cafe and found that Funny Face, a reader from Texas, had given me a $20 dollar punch card there. 

Thank you Caleb and Funny Face.

Later this afternoon, I will drive into Anchorage, where a barbecue will be held in my honor at the home of Jacob, Lavina, Kalib and Jobe. Doubtless, I will receive more presents.

I have not been surfing since I was 20 years old. The last time that I went was in Santa Cruz, California, just before the Mormon Church sent me on a two year mission to the Lakota/Dakota in South Dakota and Montana. I don't really remember much about any of the waves I rode that day, because they were so-so and not that great, but I do remember the voluptuous woman in the tiny blue bikini who walked along the edge of the water with the little gold chain slung atop her hips. She made me wonder why I ever had to be born and raised Mormon at all, why I ever agreed to even go on a mission.

Surfing is a sport that I have always wanted to get back into and I thought that 60 would be just the right age to do so.

I am not going to give up on this goal. I now state my intention to go surfing sometime this winter - in Alaska's sister state, the great state of Hawaii. I will go down there and, fake shoulder and all, I will paddle into the surf and I will shred those waves apart - even if for only one second before the frothing break hammers me under.

This is my goal. For many years, it has been my goal to get to Hawaii and I have never made it. So I reset the goal, for this winter, with new determination.

And then, next summer, on my 61st birthday, having had a little practice, I give myself the new goal to go surfing in Yakutak, where I have friends.

I have been young now for 60 years.

There is no appetite, desire, hope or ambition that I carried at the age of 20 that I do not carry now.

I do not intend to quit being young anytime soon, no matter what the damn calendar says, no matter how white my beard has grown, my hair now starting to follow.

I am a young man and I intend to stay that way.

But why do I feel so damn tired? Right now, as I type these words.

Right now and every waking moment - every sleeping moment.

Every moment.

Why, come mornings, do I find that I just want to sleep longer, yet am unable to sleep?

Could it be that I cannot beat the calendar, that it is going to take me down yet, just as it takes down everyone else?

Nah! Can't happen!

As I work to finish up my Greenland posts, Lavina, Kalib and Jobe invite us to Jalepeno's; Kalib walks past the wreckage of my past life; Margie and Jobe on the couch

Yesterday, I stated that I was about to buckle down and finally finish up my Greenland posts. I had, in fact, set out to do this very thing when Lavina called Margie and asked for us to meet her, Kalib and Jobe at Jalepeno's, where she would buy us lunch.

Lavina had come out to the valley to teach a class on diabetes, which is why Margie had not already gone into Anchorage to begin her week-long babysitting shift. On this day, she would babysit at the house.

We did join the three at Jalepeno's.

The waitress found herself helplessly charmed by Jobe.

Lavina fed Kalib and Jobe scrutinized the world outside the window.

Lavina kissed Jobe. 

Astute observers will note a bad flare in the mid to left portion of this and the above frames. I am afraid that the lens to my pocket camera has been afflicted with a permanent mar that no amount of cleaning can remove. This happened in New York City in April, but in the time since has only gotten worse. Now, this happens whenever I shoot against the main light source, sometimes manifesting itself like this, sometimes as two rainbow-colored streaks coming down the frame; sometimes both flaws appear in the same frame.

I don't like it, but my first objective in taking a photograph is to capture some kind of feeling and if I succeed, then I don't get that uptight about the technical flaws.

I still notice them, though.

I have thought about sending the camera back to Canon for repair, but I will probably just hang on to it until the next generation of the s90 comes out, or something just as tiny but better, and then purchase that.

The ability to carry a camera around in my pocket has simply spoiled me; caused me to learn to hate my big, bread and butter cameras.

I can't stand to carry them anymore.

All of a sudden, Jobe started to scream and cry, terrified.

He looked at his grandpa and calmed down.

When we arrived at the house, Kalib did not go in but set out to the backyard. I cut through the house so that I could get there ahead of him. I caught him in this photo, walking past the wreckage of my destroyed airplane, the Running Dog - walking past the wreckage of the dream that I once strived so hard to live.

Whatever anyone thinks of my lifestyle and how I get around and what I do, it just has not been at all the same since I crashed this plane. I lost something precious that day, September 22, 2001. I always thought that I would get it back. I still think so, but am beginning to doubt.

My entire identity and concept of who and what I am has been hit hard, damaged severely. Life does not feel the same to me as it did before, when The Running Dog was airworthy and I would sit in the cockpit, my right hand upon the stick, Alaska beneath my wings.

Kalib, who does not yet know that his grandpa used to fly this airplane all about Alaska. I wish that I could have strapped him into the back seat and have taken him for a ride on this very day.

Margie and Jobe, in the house. I think she had just changed his diaper. I had just come in from my office, where I had been going through my Greenland pictures.

Margie and Jobe, again.

I can't get enough of these two, together. And now both are gone from me for awhile, as Lavina took them and Kalib back to Anchorage with her this morning.

It's possible that I will not spend another night with Margie this trip home. Saturday morning, I leave for Fort Yukon, for the Gwich'in Gathering. Maybe someone will bring Margie home Friday night so that she can get up in the morning and go back to town with me Saturday when I catch my plane.

I don't know yet.

Late last night, I did finally complete my first pass giving at least a glance to every photo that I took in Greenland.

It had been my intent to do nothing but blog Greenland today, to put up two, three, four or however many posts necessary to bring this project to some kind of conclusion before I go to bed tonight.

But now that I have put this post up, I think that I had better leave it at the top for 24 hours, because Kalib and Jobe have many friends and relatives out there who come to this blog only to see them. Some of my readers don't care about anything else that I post here - they only want to see Kalib and Jobe. Some of them might miss this post if I put something else on top of it. 

So the Greenland conclusion will just have to wait for one more day.

I hope I get it done before I leave for Fort Yukon.

I have many other things to do between now and then as well - a couple of which must be done today. I need to be three people, each one of whom is me.

Four, maybe.

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ICC Nuuk, Greenland, part 9: On the Day of the Seal, children catch tiny animals in a tidepool

As seal was being barbecued on rocks suspended over tiny fires, I noticed children gathered around a couple of tiny tidepools.

I ventured over for a closer look. They were most intent on what they were doing and they were catching something. I did not know what.

A boy prepares to place his catch in a cup while a little girl peers into the pool in search of hers.

She thrusts her hand into the water and catches it.

Now she goes for the cup to place it in.

Everyone is interested.

A boy also makes a successful catch. What are these little creatures?

H'mmm... looks like baby shrimp to me.

Whatever, they are a source of endless fascination.

Now, I have spent the past week in a state of exhaustion beyond all reason and I haven't pulled out of it yet, but I will see if I can finally catch up a bit on my Greenland work and finish this series off. I will never get it all in here, but ICC Alaska is looking for funds to enable us to make a little magazine-style book on the General Assembly, so I trust it will all come together in the end.

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An extremely lazy day - Chicago sleeps upon my tummy as I crash, lay about and watch TV with Margie

This is the only picture that I took all day Saturday and I took it late at night as I lay upon the couch, watching TV, my head resting against Margie, Chicago sleeping upon my tummy.

It was an extremely lazy day and I did nothing worth mentioning, nor did I have a single intelligent thought worth passing on.

Lisa got lazy, too. She did not come out as she had intended. We did not climb Lazy Mountain as she had committed me to. She said it was because it was raining hard at her place, but it was not raining here nor upon Lazy Mountain.

We were all just lazy.

Too lazy to climb Lazy Mountain.

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Wasilla on a 78 degree scorcher: I go biking with Shadow Me, Tony and Taiga prepare for the hunt; relief from the heat at Wasilla Malibu

Yesterday, I had speculated that I would not post at all today, as people go out to play on summer Saturday's, my readership goes way down, I'm still jet-lagged from and getting over the sickness that struck me down in wonderful Greenland and maybe I should just relax and play today myself.

In fact, I decided that was exactly what I would do - not blog today.

But then it seemed silly to just leave things sitting where they were, when we had all baked at 78 degrees in Wasilla and I could easily put up a very quick and easy post to tell you so.

So here is Shadow Me, biking at 78 degrees in Wasilla. Shadow Me never sweats, but I do - and I did.

Usually when I bike, I try to take all my pictures as I pedal past the subject. But when I saw Tony and his new pup, I had to stop. Tony is a hunter and he was training the pup how to be a hunting dog. The pup is named Taiga, because that is where they are going to go hunting - on the taiga.

Tony is a good neighbor, by the way. A very good neighbor. And he is an author - like me, but his subject matter is different. Related, but different.

His dogs are always good dogs.

I have never known Tony to have a bad dog.

I liked Barney the best.

Barney grew old and died, as dogs do with alarming frequency.

As we all do, unless we die young.

I miss Barney.

As I pedaled down Church Road toward the Little Susistna River, I saw a man working in his yard, where pretty flowers bloomed.

Such is summer life in the Great, White, Eternally-Frozen North.

Here we are, passing by Wasilla Lake's Wasilla Malibu Beach, Margie driving, me in the passenger seat, kids cooling off in the water.

Yesterday, Lisa read the part in my blog where I speculated that perhaps today I might want to play myself. She called. She should be here soon. Then we will go out into the country and play.

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