May 31, 2015 -- Homer to Anchorage

Here's one of the reasons that we went to Homer -- to see the sandhill cranes. This one is roaming a friend's yard above the bluff that rises beyond Bishop's Slough. The cranes nest below the property in the marshy area at the foot of the bluff, but come up to the yard daily to root in the garden for food.

Here's another reason -- breakfast -- granola with everything (Jim), and breakfast sandwiches (me) at La Baleine Cafe on the Spit.

We came to see Homer's quirky delights (this is a battered old boat that has been there for a very long time, and has accumulated numerous oddities to go along with its own rustic charm).

Another unusual building -- Homer has hundreds. This is across from the Driftwood on the ocean side of Olson Lane.

Even the Bunnell (especially the Bunnell?) Art Gallery has its eye-catching aspects -- the entrance features a mass of the buoys that Homer's fisher people use daily for their livelihood. The white tent being set up is part of the preparation for the afternoon's event, "Dinner in the Street."

We came to breathe the air, and see the beach along the Spit at low tide.

We envied the Spit Rats their location and ingenuity (but only a little bit).

A person out paddle-boarding.

A view of Homer in the hazy distance, across Bishop's Slough.

At the top of the hill where you enter and leave Homer, the city has provided a park with telescopes, gardens, and views of the Spit and Kachemak Bay. We saw Mt. St. Augustine (another one of the area's active volcanoes) earlier in the morning, but by noon it was misted over, and the view of the Spit was a bit blurred.

The gardens had many flowers, like the lupine, just getting started for the season.

An old gentleman had a container full of walking sticks -- selling them?

Along the way, a stop at Tern Lake, which had one tern, a couple of gulls, and a flock of birders. And one of the more beautiful views anywhere.

Skipping ahead -- we good some good shots of the hooligan fishing at Twenty-Mile River, about 50 miles south of Anchorage.

People fishing under the bridge -- the fisher people are packed about as densely as the hooligan would be at high tide.

The couple in the foreground of the photo above got some of their catch to show us. They said that the tide was about half way in so they weren't catching many, just one or two at a time. In a couple of hours, they would be catching dozens in each swoop of the net. Their two older kids (maybe 3 and 4 years old) were comfortably parked in a double stroller on the bank that gave them some shade, and playing hand-held video games. They kept the baby girl with them; she was a wiggler.

Another woman let us take a picture of her bucket-half-full. She had caught many more at other times, she said, and expected to be back to fish again this season. She often dries the fish, or smokes them, or brines them.

Just as at Ship Creek where people are fishing for salmon, there seemed to be quite a few people and dogs whose main interest was sitting in the sun and watching. This dog got a shady spot.

Back in Anchorage, a multi-cultural espresso kiosk -- lattes, lefse, frappes,Thai tea, burritos . . .  or all of them together.

Along the streets, wild roses,

a  crabapple tree -- amazing how it can get so many flowers crammed onto each twig.

Pasque flowers, with a bee.

Anchorage to Homer, May 30, 2015

Forecast for Southcentral Alaska for the last weekend in May -- constant sun, and the warmest temperatures yet this year. It only made sense to go to Homer and walk along the Spit with Kachemak Bay in the foreground, and mountains and glaciers in the distance.

On the way out of Anchorage we stopped by the post office near the library to mail a box -- the fountain was on, which has been a rare occurrence. Perhaps it was because there were festivities at Cuddy Park behind the library, but tempting as that was, we had Homer on our map.

Turnagain Arm, with a little surf lapping at the shore as the tide goes out. We didn't see sheep today, only an eagle or two, and just glimpses of the hooligan fisher people. Hooligan, or "euchalon" are small smelt-like fish that come up Turnagain Arm in great numbers in the spring. People catch them and can or smoke them -- or as one guy was telling me yesterday, just eat them all up. We'll try to get photos on the way home tomorrow. We did see a pair of swans just east of Portage on the Placer River Overflow, and plenty of tour buses (all coming from Seward?), the train from Seward, and a moderate number of RVs. Definitely summer, but early still.

Among the people on the road today were dozens of cyclists between Girdwood and Hope Junction. They were impressive: some rode 110 miles -- from Girdwood to Hope itself, and back, to raise money for the Multiple Sclerosis Society. This is a rest stop at Twenty-Mile River, about 12 1/2 miles from Girdwood, and the turn-around point for the riders who were doing a 25-mile trek.

Going up the hill from Ingram Creek to Turnagain Pass (an elevation gain of about 950 feet), cyclists had to go through road construction. The haze in the photo is dust kicked up by the machinery.

Once at the Pass, the cyclists had fresh air and mountains, blue sky, and sunshine. This is Turnagain Pass rest area, with refreshments for the cyclists, and the turnaround point for the 50-mile riders.

It's too early for salmon fishing on the Kenai River, but not for rafting. A popular spot for launching rafts is the flat beach where the river flows out of Kenai Lake. The sky was a clear blue everywhere today, and the greens intensely green.

New grass and dandelion puffs, Soldotna.

Mt. Redoubt, from near Clam Gulch. Its most recent eruption was from March 15, 209 to about July 2009. The ash clouds shut down Anchorage's airport for a day or so, and later dumped ash on Homer and the area. No steam today; all was quiet.

South of Soldotna, spring was arriving later than in Anchorage. This stand of trees, on the bluff overlooking Cook Inlet at Mile 140 is always one of the last to leaf out, and one of the first to go bare in the autumn.

It's summer in Alaska, and no matter what the state's budget woes, there's road construction and the delays that go with it.

We left Anchorage earlier than usual and tried to make good time to get to Homer before the Saturday Farmers' Market closed at 4:00 p.m. And we did get there before 4:00 p.m., but the Market had closed at 3:00.

We saw charming planters; and a jeweler, Claire O'Donnell, very kindly stayed late to let me find earrings that I liked.

It's tulip season, and the Homer Bookshop's black ones were the most outstanding.

Inside the store, they had fringed demonic tulips back by the coffee shop.

Land's End Hotel had blowsy sun-struck yellows and reds, with the shiny petals beloved of Dutch still-life artists.

An octopus-painted bench at the Homer Bookstore.

The Rainbow Connection tour boat at dock in the Homer marina. This was the boat that King Harald of Norway took to Seldovia on his visit to Kachemak Bay this past week.

Kayaks for rent at the marina.

It's not Homer without a gull (or more likely, several hundred).

Raven on an up-ended driftwood pole.

Jim with his chocolate ice cream wafer cone (made fresh today) at Frozen Bear Ice Cream on the Spit. No matter what other services or goods it offers, every other business in Homer will also take you out on a charter fishing trip. Frozen Bear was no exception.

If you don't want to rent a charter, it's always possible to fish from the beach at Land's End.

Once you've caught your fish, then you have to clean it (or pay someone to do that for you). Along the Spit are public areas where the city provides tables, sinks, and places to dispose of the leavings. They are well protected by wire and plastic from the gulls and eagles who would like to share.

Driftwood and docks, at Land's End.

Bonfire at Bishop's Beach this evening, taken from the hotel window so it's a bit blurry. That's how light it was at 11:00 p.m.

Full moon above Kachemak Bay, 11:35 p.m.

Pale grape hyacinths hiding under the shrubbery.