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.
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.