#so if its 9 and he's still snoozin he NEEDS IT

[acecasinova]

The Clown Council has been fed and is mostly chill now, though I feel they would be more content had I turned on the TV already or All of Their Toys

The Clown Council has assembled

[ronjonjo365]

Joe - Raindrops are tappin' the tarp. It's 9:30 in the morning and I'm kicked back in my recliner enjoying my second cup o' coffee. I slept well, this same drizzle was a lullaby on my tent last night to accompany the sound of glacial melt rushing down the Matanuska waterway 100 yards from camp. It's shaping up to be a day best spent under shelter close to supplies and reading material and I'm nodding off lost in those thoughts. Me and the dog detect the sound simultaneously. He bounces out of my lap as I strain to visually confirm my suspicions. An old Chevy truck pulls up to the bridge. I know that sound. I know that guy. I hope I'm wrong about knowin' what he wants to do. I'm not. Wayne rounds the corner onto the camp trail grinnin' like a goofus. He gives me one of the beers he's carrying, pops the top on his and sits in the dog's chair (yeah, the dog has a chair, it's a recliner...not bad for a homeless guy eh?) and announces his intention to drag me off to some bay on the coast of Alaska and help me catch salmon. "Right now?" is my initial query. Can't I finish my nap and wait for the weather to clear are my immediate thoughts... "Pack yer shit, here's some dry bags. Ya got a fishin' pole?" FUCK! It takes half an hour and we're heading south. I packed for cold and wet. Wayne says we're snaggin' 'em. I don't know what that means, I don't know what to expect. "People are trying to come with us, a woman with kids," he explains, "I ain't no babysitter, we gotta get outta town before she can find us." We stop at the govt game office for a proxy permit. They say no. We go to a coffee shack for some biscuits and gravy. I read the fine print and point out a flaw in their reasoning. We go back to argue with the govt. they say no. Wayne's head is gonna pop. We gotta get outta dodge. We're waiting on traffic trying to exit the parking lot and make good our escape when the woman with kids appears out of the line of vehicles. She pulls up and rolls down her window. Apparently she wants to make some plans. Wayne is turning red, "OK," he rolls up his window and we're on our way. There's a friend in Anchorage. We stop for a packet of powder guaranteed to enhance our expedition experience and increase our salmon harvest. Travelling the Turnagain Arm road the truck starts acting up, starvin' for gas is the prognosis. We stop at a pullout and pop the hood. I gotta pee. I retreat to the trees. In the process it occurs to me what are the odds that woman and those kids will find us here. I zip up and turn around in time to see her truck pull up. I have yet to meet any of these people. Wayne's been cussin' 'em out the whole way so I don't expect much. Through the side I can see eyes and hair in the back seat and skinny limbs hanging out the windows. Much noise emanates from the area. She wants to make more plans. "OK," Wayne says and we close the hood and leave. The weather clears but the mood is stormy She trails us all the way into Seward. We find a place to park and access the water. Poles are set up with inch long treble hooks with a 10 ounce weight in the middle. The woman has poles and hooks for all in her party. Wayne takes notice. The tide's coming in so we have a long walk to where people are fishing. They cast the hook halfway across a 30 foot channel then jerk the rod. Pull in the slack like a fly rod then jerk again, pull the assembly out of the water and toss it to the middle again...over and over in hopes a passing salmon will get impaled on one of the treble hooks. If the surroundings weren't so beautiful this repetitive slinging and jerking would get monotonous. Then some guy 15 feet downstream pulls 5 pounds of fighting salmon out of the slough and you redouble your efforts. It's a maddening way to spend an evening. Thank dog for beer. Wayne is warming up to the woman and her kids when she shows they can take care of themselves and we don't have to babysit. Hell, even her 7 year old daughter is standing in the water slinging and jerking. We all get skunked. The tide is coming in fast and the water's getting deep so we head back to a tent camp we spotted in town. The woman is completely unprepared for camping. She comes across a tent tucked away behind the debris collecting in the back of the truck but nobody thought to bring a sleeping bag or blanket. The powder works its magic and I don't sleep a wink all night which is funny when you think about it. Here I am all rolled up in a kingsized sleeping bag with my eyes bugging out of my head, my brain working overtime and not a chance for zzz's to kick in while the woman and her kids are huddled and cuddled up in a cheap tent trying to spread body warmth. I feel bad now...I didn't then. I did donate a polar fleece shirt . I was tired of watching the 7 year old shiver. I'm 6'3" she's 3' nuthin' I figure she could use the shirt as a sleeping bag. I've yet to get it back. We find better water access for $20 in the morning. We meet some interesting people on the way. One guy named Darrell from Cedar Rapids Iowa."I just like to kill shit and eat it," is his philosophy. Interesting. That was my dads name and that's where he was from though that wasn't my dad's philosophy. Another guy named Rich from Anchorage who grows pot professionally. I get his phone number. Another guy from Ukraine whose story was so convoluted I'm still confused. Wayne catches a couple fish. The woman caught one too. I get skunked again but I'm privy to a heartwarming scene: We are trudging to a new channel 'cause the one we were fishin' wasn't producing. I pick a spot next to an old guy sitting on a bucket holding his head in his hands. Wayne taps the guy on the shoulder and asks if everything is ok. The guy looks up and says, "Yeah, I'm just a little tired. I just want to catch a fish." Wayne says, "Ok but you can't catch anything if yer hook ain't in the water." "I know," the guy sets up to restart the slinging and jerking process. Wayne walks past a couple fisher folk and starts fishing. We're not here five minutes when Wayne hooks into a salmon. He keeps the rod tip up, excuses himself to get around 2 guys with poles and presents the old guy with his rod, "Here's yer fish." The old guy grabs the rod like a pro, passes his to Wayne and reels in the catch. The smile on his face will stay with me for a long time. I'm still skunked but the kids are a joy to be around. They're not stupid and they're not whiners. They smile a lot, stay active and are capable of coherent conversation. The weather includes sunshine and warmth and things are looking up even if I can't catch a damn fish. Eagles are common as crows with all the fish food the anglers leave behind but they're still impressive. The $20 dollar entrance fee includes camping so we find a place in the weeds, away from a flock of screeching sea gulls and pitch tents. The demon dust works its spell and my body rests but my mind wanders through another sleepless night. The morning finds me and Wayne sitting around a campfire talking ourselves into the long walk to the water for a final attempt. The woman and her kids are still snoozin', we don't need no stinkin' food, we pack our nostrils, grab our poles and head out. A mile later we're at waters edge. Not a channel, this is the bay at low tide. We're casting 50 yards into saltwater. My first cast lands a flounder. He gets to swim again. My second cast hooks into a nice sized salmon. Heehee I'm not a vegetarian ('vegetarian' is native for 'bad hunter'). Wayne pulls one in too. The action slows so we go. The woman and her kids are out fishing so we break camp and head out. Highway traffic is at a crawl on this 2 lane main artery. Tourists are gawking, roadwork is halting progress and we need ice for the fish. We have to wait till Anchorage for the frozen cubes but it's a beautiful day and we have food. It's a good trip!