My World By Phillip Martin

Ready When I Am?

10/20/2021

Check book and phone case, potato and potahto

I know the routine. Whenever you fly, you heed to check-in at the airport two hours in advance. On this trip to the flight desk, I saw a couple who arrived thirty minutes before their flight. They were bumped off the plane because you have to be there at least forty minutes in advance. There was no mercy on the part of the airline. It didn’t matter if the two people were in the military. There was no forgiveness. You must check in at least forty minutes early.

But, I was there well in advance.

As I registered at the computer check-in, I noticed that my printout declared my boarding time was 10:30. I thought, “Hmm . . . I’m barely here soon enough. How can that be?” Well, I didn’t read that computer printout nearly close enough.

When I finally made human contact at the counter, I was informed that my original flight was cancelled. I was rebooked for a red-eye flight to Detroit at 10:30 at night. That was supposed to be when I arrived home! There had to be something that could be done.

But, there wasn’t.

The agent tried scheduling me through Atlanta, Los Angeles and a few other cities. All of them put me in Columbus, Ohio, the following morning, at around ten. There was nothing I could do about it. I did ask for a few meal vouchers and there should have been a free ticket thrown in. But, the food vouchers were all that I could squeeze out of the airline.

However, the insanity continued.

The woman behind the desk apologized. “You cannot check in your luggage yet. The earliest that we can accept it is six hours before the flight. It’s for security, you understand.”

I didn’t understand.

I said, “I know you didn’t make the rules here, but do you see how ridiculous this situation is? There is no place to go on this side of the airport gates. All restaurants are closed outside the gates. There are no rest areas. There is no place to go and no place to put my luggage.”

Okay, I guess I could have called my sister-in-law to come back and rescue me for the day. But she lived more than an hour from the airport. I was not going to ask her to do that twice in one day. So, I had no real options. Could this woman behind the counter check with her supervisor?

The supervisor showed up. She said the worst word possible under the circumstances. No. Once again, I had to speak up. “No is a terrible word to say right now. Do you realize how ridiculous this rule is? I didn’t cancel the flight. I have no place to go and I cannot pass through the gates with my luggage.”

Finally, thankfully, sanity reigned supreme. They took my luggage and I was free to head through security and pass through the gate for the next twelve hours. However, before that could happen, nature called.

Now, I’ve traveled more than my share. And, during one of my more memorable flights, I lost the little pack that held phone, wallet, identification and a whole wad of money. I’ve learned what to do. The pack that holds my identification and money is now strapped to the handle of my backpack when I travel. It cannot fall away and be lost. I have an additional pack that carries my phone. It’s safely strapped to the backpack handle as well. With this sort of double protection, you would think that I couldn’t and wouldn’t lose anything.

You would be so wrong.

After nature called, I found a seat and rummaged through my backpack. I wanted to get my passport and boarding passes to show to the security agents. As I rummaged, I noticed my phone was missing. It wasn’t in the fancy little phone holder case that was safely attached to the backpack handle. I rummaged through the entire backpack – twice – and it really wasn’t there. The phone can’t be safe from loss if I don’t put it in the phone holder.

It had to be somewhere between me and the restroom.

I went back to retrace my steps. Nobody wants to be the person searching in little corners of the public restroom. It’s not a good look. But, I headed off in that direction.

Fortunately for me, I have a unique phone case that looks like a brown, leather checkbook. If you are too young to know what a checkbook is, there is nothing I can do about that. But, I saw a young man walking out of the restroom with a stylish brown, leather phone case in his hand. He wasn’t sure where Lost and Found was located and I solved that problem before he had to look any further. He must have thought I was a doddering old fool. He patted me gently on my back as I walked away, safely reuniting my phone with its carrying case, and so very relieved.

An unexpected twelve-hour layover is no fun, but it is certainly far from the worst travel disaster I’ve ever experienced. I had vouchers for two meals at the same restaurant. The waiters were friendly. One felt particularly bad about the delay until I said, “A twelve-hour delay is nothing in the grand scope of travel disasters. After you’ve been arrested at the airport and taken to prison, this barely counts at all.”

That required the retelling of my trip to Haiti.

It always does.

So, I survived the twelve-hour wait and eventually boarded my flight. It was still a long night with little or no sleep. I’m thinking it was no sleep. I was awake when the captain announced the aurora borealis over Missoula, Montana. Except, I really couldn’t see much from the middle seat. I’m too tall and the window was too low. I didn’t want to lean my head down that close to a stranger’s lap to really see the lights. That was another look that wouldn’t be very good.

I arrived home safe and sound, thankfully. I was also really much more worn out than was necessary. This unnamed airline claims to be ready when I am. I think it’s safe to say that this time they weren’t.

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... so far

10/3/2021

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My last blog ended with two words that I never should have written . . . so far! I talked about the best bear story of the season . . . so far. It was an open invitation for the universe or a bear to turn around and bite me "you know where". Well, you may imagine just where a bear would be tempted to bite a person.

You would be wrong.

Someone, someplace, sometime in the past week shared a bear tale. When in Alaska, in my experience, the major conversations at the dinner table tend to be about fishing, hunting, and more fishing. That never happens in my life in Ohio. It’s safe to say never. Never!

But, not in Alaska.

The someone telling this tale talked about a hunter who shot a moose. He brought the critter back to the campsite to do whatever you might do with a moose corpse. I only eat chocolate mousse, so I don’t know what you’d do with the other kind. First of all, upon arrival at the camp, the hunter bragged about his remarkable hunting abilities. However, whatever he wanted to do with the moose never happened. A bear showed up at camp and took the moose out into the river for a swim.

An Innocent Moose - not really meant for consumption

From a distance where nobody could do anything about it, the bear bit off the front of the moose’s face and then ripped the skin off the skull. It was too late for the moose to care. The great hunter was horrified. Everyone else pretty much had a great chuckle.

I would have too.

Closer to home, at my sister’s river camp, they had some bear business of their own going on. Some of the groundskeepers gathered up trash from the shed to haul off to the dump. Late September and early October may be warm where you live, but it is unusually cold in Alaska. Cold that includes snow! And, with the new winter hours, the dump was closed.

The boys drove the truckload of garbage back to the camp. Now, they should have hauled the trash back into the storage shed that is behind an electrical fence that keeps bears out. But, something like that didn’t occur to them. They left the load of trash in the back of the truck. You might find the smell mildly offensive. Perhaps, horribly offensive. I certainly would. However, to the local bear population, it was an open dinner invitation to one and all.

And, the bears came.

A not-so-secure porch entrance and the bear's trail of leftovers

On this particular occasion, five bears showed up – two mamas and three cubs. I guess the cubs were adorable, but I never saw them. In the middle of the night, the bears unloaded the trash for the groundskeepers. They spread it all over the place as they feasted. They might have been delighted about the meal, but nobody else seemed to be, especially the boys who had to clean up the remains of the feast the next morning.

I’ve learned something else about bears. If they find food someplace, they tend to come back for seconds. It might be in the middle of the night, or in the wee hours of the morning, or even at suppertime. One evening during the meal, two bear cubs tumbled across the tundra right up to the windows of the dining hall. Guests were delighted. My brother-in-law and their mama, not so much. The bears probably had a good night of sleep, but my brother-in-law stayed up all night, patrolling the campground and keeping his guests safe and alive.

Back to that “so far”. It came back to nearly bite me much closer to home. My sister’s home is a fixer-project on the tundra. It’s set on a beautiful lake, but it needs a lot of work. You already know from a previous blog that bats sometimes enjoy the attic - with or without a belfry. Another thing on the fixer upper list is the front porch door. It is missing a door knob. It’s been on the “to do” list for a while, but that’s not the kind of thing I do. The door closes, but it just doesn’t lock.

I’ll give you one guess where my sister stores her trash before taking it to the dump. Yep, that very porch. And since there is no lock, on the same night that five bears feasted at the river camp, another bear decided to accept a gracious dinner invitation. After all, my sister is a wonderful cook.

Bears can claw, smash, and slash their way into almost any location they want. That door, even with a lock, was not any kind of barrier. If a bear wanted in, he was going to get in. And, he wanted in. We didn’t hear when he accepted his invitation. The first clue was when my nephew walked through the porch the following morning around 5:00 AM to go cook breakfast. He heard a noise outside and flashed his phone to the left. Down a newly blazed trail in the tundra, the bear left a path of trash in his wake. But when he saw the light, he fled the scene. However, it cannot be said that he vanished without a trace.

But, let me discuss my sister’s home in a little more detail. On the other side of the porch, away from the door without a lock, was another very fragile glass French doorway. Nothing about the door could prevent a bear if he was ever so inclined to stroll into the next room. That next room was the family living room. However, it also happened to serve as my very public bedroom for the entire time I was in Alaska. Everyone else in the home was hidden behind doors. The doors weren’t sturdy enough to stop a bear, but I still would have preferred cowering behind one of them under the circumstances.

Now, every night I’ve been in Alaska, my bedroom has been like Grand Central Station. Family and friends watch movies in my room, usually movies so awful that I’d never watch them, and often well after I've gone to bed. On occasion, people crash on the couch. Perhaps you don’t mind uninvited guests crashing in your bedroom, but it isn’t my favorite part of my Alaskan experience. And, all hours of the night, lights go on and feet more than patter across the floor as various people use the only bathroom in the house. I’ve heard it all.

But, I never heard the bear bust into the front porch and feast on our garbage!

That critter had every opportunity to smash through the French doors and amble closer to me than I ever needed to experience nature. In my earlier blog, I talked about Bat Boy screaming like a bat out of hell when he awoke with a bat on his face. He wouldn’t hold a candle to my screams if I awoke to a bear in my bedroom. Of course, I wouldn’t scream very long if he bit off half my face and ripped the skin off my skull. Yep, that’s one of the pitfalls of education. I now know what that critter would do to me.

So, yes, I’ve had yet another Alaskan bear experience. I have lived to tell about it, thank you very much. And, I AM NOT ENDING THIS BLOG WITH ANOTHER SO FAR! But, remember, I told you that bears return to a place once they’ve found food there.

I don’t plan on sleeping well any time soon in Alaska.

Muddy paws are better than bloody claws.

P.S. Thankfully, I didn’t have another personal encounter with a bear in my last few days in Alaska. But, the blog does come with an extra little bit to add to the story.

There was more excitement at the river camp when my sister arrived to prepare for breakfast. She didn’t see a bear, fortunately, but like I have already told you, once they find food, bears like to return to the scene of the feast. One bear, most likely one that enjoyed the invitation to the dump truck, came back for seconds.

How did anyone know about his visit when there was no food around for him? Good question. The bear was nobody’s fool. He knew that his last meal was in a vehicle. And, my sister had several vehicles around the dining hall. Peering into each window, looking for food, the bear pawed his way around every one of the trucks parked in the lot. Muddy bear paw prints followed along as he searched. I don’t think he found anything to munch on except the mirror that was ripped off the left side of a van.

When my brother-in-law drove into town, even the locals wanted to take pictures of the bear prints. They’d never seen anything like it before. As for me, I found it a delightful Alaskan story. I was so glad that the bear returned to the river camp instead of the front porch next to my bedroom. Any day, every day, I’d rather hear about a van with muddy paws instead of my dead body with bloody claws.

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Bear Tails

9/20/2021

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I had an unexpected trip to Katmai National Park. If you’ve ever seen a photo of bears fishing for salmon on a river in Alaska, this is the place. I visited Katmai National Park last year on a beautifully sunny, warm day. It was lovely. And, it was even lovelier with Covid. Hardly anyone was at the park! My sister and I sat at the viewing deck of the waterfall undisturbed. We had it as long as we wanted. On other occasions, guests need a timed visitor pass to accommodate the hordes at the park.

This visit was like neither of those options – not too crowded and certainly not empty. Upon arrival, I spotted the same park ranger that I talked to for quite a while last year. Much to my shock (and shame), she remembered my name. How was that possible? Of course, I didn’t remember hers. Anyway, she told me that the park had recovered from last year. This season they had record numbers of visitors and a record low amount of rangers.

Upon arrival, all visitors have to go to Bear School. You learn what to do - and not do - if a bear crosses your pathway. No, thank you. You learn what you can and cannot take with you on the trail to eat or drink. Only water. If you are not sure, ask yourself, “Is this water?” If the answer is yes, you can take it. Bear School only lasted for about ten minutes. After that, I was ready to see bears.

As it turned out, it was an amazing day to see bears and fish. If you are a non-fisherman like me, you may not know that cloudy, rainy days are great days for fishing. Fish don’t like warm, sunny days. Hmmm . . . maybe that is why I don’t like fishing? Anyway, it was a chilly day and I was layered up with three layers of protective warmth. It also protected me from the occasional light rain. In spite of the chill and the rain, fishermen at camp had a record day of fishing and I had a record day of bear sightings. Everyone was happy, except for travelers who want a good tan when they travel. They would be in the wrong state if that is why they came to Alaska.

I traveled to the park with someone who had an amazing camera. My camera is at least ten years old. In camera years, I guess that is ancient, well beyond over-the-hill, and almost dead. This new camera had all the newest bells and whistles to amaze me and take incredible photos. In addition, it gave me a more than mild case of camera envy.

After a rain delay, and a break at the lounge for coffee, the owner of the camera wanted to continue lounging and I was in the mood for bears. I took his fancy, schmancy camera and headed to the waterfall. There were at least a dozen photographers at the viewing platform. Nearly every one of them had a zoom lens that was about two feet long. I eventually had my turn with the camera and then headed back the trail to the main area of the park.

Did you notice I said “trail”? It was a dirt path among the trees. Isolated. Not many guests at all. I wandered along the path looking for mushrooms and berries to photograph. I was done photographing bears.

Or, so I thought.

Yep, I had my very own Alaskan bear “tail”. There I was, innocently walking down the path, minding my own business, ‘shrooming. That’s when I looked up and I saw a huge Grizzley bear ambling down the path towards me.

Just barely too close for comfort, behind some logs and brush

I told you, I attended Bear School before walking the park. I knew that I was supposed to keep at least a fifty-yard distance from all bears. Too late to keep that rule. I was less than that distance from this guy, without bear spray, and he was moving closer and closer. You may not believe me, but I knew what to do under the circumstances. Get off the path. Let me repeat, GET OFF THE PATH! I climbed over fallen trees and vines to get a good distance away. I wanted that bear to mildly struggle if he wanted to come in my direction. But, I’d watched those critters for hours. They were surprisingly graceful and quiet. If he wanted to meet me up close and personally, in an Alaskan frontier manner, he could have done it. I would have been toast. But, thank goodness, an Ohio Buckeye isn’t nearly as delicious as Alaskan salmon. And, that was what this bear had in mind as he walked towards the waterfall.

Also, in Bear School, I was told it was wise to keep sight of the bear at all times. Well, I didn’t. I seriously wanted to, but in order to get a safe distance away from the bear, I had to lose sight of the critter. Eventually, he ambled down the path past me. Yep, he stopped and looked at me before he moved along. I took a photo, but the camera really wasn’t properly set. I mean, when your life is mildly threatened, maintaining perfect camera technology is not a priority.

So, I had my bear moment in Alaska. It was more than I needed and less than it could have been. I’ll live with it. Amanda had a much better Alaskan moment to share.

She was one of my favorite people to meet this year in Alaska. Amanda worked as a member of the kitchen staff. It’s an underpraised position. She got up each morning at 4:35 to get ready for breakfast at 7:00 for the fishermen. I don’t believe in getting up that early unless I have to go to the bathroom.

And, that brings me back to Amanda.

The kitchen crew and fishing guides live in an assortment of rustic cabins and sturdy tents on the campgrounds. I, personally, would not enjoy a sturdy tent for several months and I'm not so sure about a rustic cabin. Amanda lived in a cabin. It had a heater but no electricity. There were no sinks, no running water and no toilets.

If you are a cabin-dweller and nature happens to call you at 4:35 in the morning, your options are not the greatest. You could mosey on down to the bath house where you could find everything you need to do what you want to do. The problem is, you could find more than you need. In those wee hours, when the area is covered with a morning fog, bears tend to roam the fishing camp. If you are on your way to the bathroom, you don’t want a bear to show up. That would cause anyone to go wee, wee, wee all the way home in their pants.

Amanda is nobody’s dummy. Her mama didn’t raise no fool. And, she figured out a way to solve her problem that didn’t involve a long walk in the moonlight, under a starry sky, with a giant beast ready to slash her throat. No, she went around to the backside of her cabin. And if you need additional details, or if you want me to draw you a picture, it just isn’t going to happen.

She went behind her cabin.

The Beautiful Amanda at her Rustic Cabin

Amanda squatted in the darkness “practicing her multiplication facts” or “pondering the wonders of the universe” when she heard a noise. She thought it was another one of her fellow campers. Since she didn’t want to flash them while she “recited the alphabet backwards”, she flashed the person with her flashlight.

And, she saw the whites of their eyes!

Well, maybe she didn’t. Actually, she saw a bear, face-to-face, while the bear saw a bare bottom. Amanda did what everyone would do under those circumstances. She screamed, “Save me! Help! I’m Terrified!”

Perhaps it was the light in his eyes. Perhaps it was the shrill screaming of a terrified camper. Fortunately, the bear was as frightened as Amanda and he dashed off into the darkness. Amanda dashed, too, but it isn’t easy to run your fastest when you are trying to gather all your clothing about you. So, just like in a horror movie when a person falls at the worst possible moment, Amanda tripped and fell flat on her face as she reached the front of her cabin. The worst possible moment! Very fortunately, no bear was present to witness the fall or slash her throat.

Under normal conditions, Amanda wouldn’t head to the kitchen until the generator was turned so there were lights. She thought my sister was already in the kitchen that morning. No, she was wrong. Nearly dead wrong. The lights were on because the motion detector worked properly. There were two bears lurking in the camp that morning. One critter turned on the motion detector while the other strolled down the path for a personal encounter with Amanda.

Safely behind her cabin door, Amanda waited for my sister to finally arrive for breakfast preparations. Only then would she set foot outside her cabin. When she finally came to work, understandably a little late, she had a barely believable tale of an encounter with a bear who barely saw a bare bottom. But (butt?), she survived and had the best bear “tail” of the season.

So far.

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'shrooming

9/8/2021

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Amanita Muscaria, or commonly called fly agaric, is the photographer's mushroom of choice. Not the chef's, as they are poisonous.

Alaskan Valentine - I think this is a King Bolete Mushroom

I’m not completely sure how far my sister’s home is from her fishing camp on the Naknek River. It’s somewhere in the vicinity of five miles. One person on the kitchen staff said that she has walked it in the past in about an hour and a half. I thought it might take me two hours.

I was up for it.

Actually, I was more interested in photographing some orange/red mushrooms that I’d seen on the drive. So, I planned to mosey my way to the river camp with frequent stops to photograph mushrooms along my way.

I was prepared.

When I go outside for long periods of time in the King Salmon area, I wear head netting over my hat. I don’t see anyone else doing that in Alaska. Nobody. Not one. It makes me special. But, it’s a sanity measure for me. I am an insect magnet. Dozens - or possibly hundreds - of insects swarm my head. Without the netting, I would go crazy. I don’t know how other people manage time in Alaska without the netting. But, I really am the only person I’ve seen wearing that netting on this trip.

The road out of King Salmon to the river camp is around twenty miles. As far as I can tell, the off-shoot road where my sister lives is the only road with a stop sign at the intersection. I’m not sure why it is there. But, it makes it very easy to identify.

The walk is ten minutes from the intersection to the house.

Easy.

Then, go right about four or five miles or more. But, almost at that intersection were some of the mushrooms that I wanted to photograph. They are beautiful orangish-red mushrooms with what is described as white warts. Just absolutely gorgeous, and poisonous! I had to take photos.

Now, the main road is fairly smooth and solid. It’s easy to walk on. The tundra, on the other hand, is neither smooth nor solid. It’s like walking on a bed where every step sinks into the ground. And, those mushrooms grew on that kind of soil among shrubs and trees. It wasn’t as easy to get to the ‘shrooms as you might expect.

The things a photographer has to do to get the right shot!

My legs were not meant to walk on tundra. They kind of bow on the soft surface and it strains the outer calf muscles. I only roamed the tundra for a few minutes to take my photos, but I felt a serious strain in my legs. When I got back to the road, I should have rested those weary muscles. It hurt to walk. This was barely after a ten-minute walk out of a suspected two-hour hike on my part.

I probably should have turned around.

But, I would have missed my adventure if I had been so wise.

The walk wasn’t going to be a joyous nature romp unless I completely stayed on the road and away from the mushrooms on the tundra. I saw more of those fungi. They didn’t tempt me in the slightest. I continued walking. Nope, no other mushrooms lured me off the road.

My sister’s camp is almost at the end of the road from King Salmon. There are very few vehicles on the roads. There are absolutely no other pedestrians. Never. It doesn’t happen. Not a one. So, as I walked, I kind of had it in the back of my mind that I might have someone offer me a ride. After all, it happened both of the other times I tried this trek. And, I’m not such an exercise freak that I would turn down a ride. That would never happen.

I heard a vehicle approaching. It was a pick-up truck with a very nasty dog in the back. It could have been a Pitbull. I’m not really sure. But, I am sure it was viciously barking. I was relieved that the pick-up didn’t stop. I didn’t want that dog to jump out of the vehicle and taste an Ohio Buckeye.

Bristol Bay Telephone Directory with a photo by Mark Emery

A few minutes later, I heard another vehicle approaching. This time it was a van. A man looked out the window and asked, “Are you okay?” I said, “Yes, but if you’re offering a ride, I’ll take it.”

He offered.

I climbed into the back seat with his camera. The camera took up more room than I did. The lens was about two and a half feet long. I am not sure if I’ve ever seen one so long. Certainly not so close up! I said, “Wow, you really have some toy!”

The guy replied, “That is no toy. It’s my livelihood.”

Of course, that need more information. And, he had it. He was a professional photographer, videographer and all-around world traveler. He lived in Alaska five months of the year and the rest of the time was based in Florida. He’s worked for National Geographic (among other organizations) and his cameras have taken him around the world.

I had such camera envy.

When there was a pause, I shared my one National Geographic claim to fame. And, having your photograph in the 100th Anniversary Issue of National Geographic is a pretty awesome claim. This guy won an Emmy for his cinematography work in nature, but he was still impressed with my claim.

My ride with this man and his wife went all too quickly. My last question was, “Have you had any travel disasters along the way?” Of course. He very quickly mentioned a plane crash, a crocodile bite and something to do with a bear. I asked for details on one and he chose the plane crash. It was in Alaska with one of the small planes that land on water. Somehow, his flipped over. It might have killed the plane, but he lived to share a good story.

This photographer had to be familiar with the area. I told him my destination. He asked if it was okay to drop me off at the connecting intersection. Obviously, he knew where I was headed and must have met my sister as some point in time. I hopped out of the van and said, “I wish I had more time to share stories with you.”

And then, he was gone. I never got his name.

When I arrived at my sister’s fishing camp, I learned that everyone knew his name. Mark Emery. Right away, my sister reached for the phone book. One of his photos was on the cover. And, I clearly saw, that if you have the right lens, you really can get amazing photographs of bears.

With a name, I Googled the guy. Yep, world-famous. Amazing photographs. Worked all over the planet. I even saw a photo of him with his Emmy award. So, in a far remote corner of Alaska, I rubbed elbows with a famous celebrity. Well, actually, my left elbow almost bumped into his humongous zoom lens. And, I didn’t even know it until it was over. It was an Alaskan Cheers moment “where everybody knows his name” . . . except me.

Needless to say, I will continue looking for mushrooms for as long as I am in Alaska.

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Ready When I Am?

... so far

Bear Tails

'shrooming

Wander My World With Me
by Phillip Martin

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Ready When I Am?

... so far

Bear Tails

'shrooming

Wander My World With Me by Phillip Martin

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Wander My World With Me
by Phillip Martin