Hiding in Halibut Cove

I think every writer fantasizes about the "perfect scenario" to write his or her masterpiece. I found mine last weekend while we were down in Homer.

Halibut Cove is located across Kachemak Bay from Homer, accessible only by boat; about a 45 minute ride. With 200+ residents in the summer and a mere handful in the winter, Halibut Cove is built upon the rocky shores and inlets of an Alaskan gem.

Our friend's parents had treated us to a special dinner at the Cove in honor of her birthday (extra-nice since they live in Nashville, TN), and the trip was the capstone of the weekend, for sure. Yukon and I discussed the possibility of renting a cabin there next summer to experience the ultimate in Alaskan relaxation. No internet, no television, no cars, no worries.

Note the photo displaying the small burial spot of a young girl. We discovered this gravesite after walking along a local path to the bluffs. I found it fascinating. What had happened? Who was she? No grave marker, no information was on the marker. Her blue eyes were mesmerizing to us in the evening light, the wind whispering around the wild grasses and wildflowers planted there. It was a sobering, yet somehow joyful spot, and I stood there for quite some time.

Sometimes peace comes to us in the most remarkable ways.

Clamming Up

Clam digging as a kid was a highlight of any trip to the beach, so Yukon and I decided to head out of Homer some 16 miles towards Whiskey Gulch, where we introduced our friends to the dirty, wet, and addicting sport of clamming.

The nicest part was that the kids were so easily amused by the holes left by the shovels and clam gun that we didn't have to worry about them a bit. They also were intrigued by the clam gun that magically sucked up a razor or butter clam and deposited it on the sand. Holes, mud, water, and sea creatures; heaven. Even the sand in their sandwiches later on didn't dissuade them. They had a great time.

My job was to reach into the hole and try and dig out more. I got pretty good at it. We ended up with nearly 50 (not even close to the limit per person) and decided to stop there, realizing that we had to go home and clean the suckers.

I won't go into the cleaning process; my friend had nightmares about it afterwards. Let's just say that they look a whole lot better all cut up and nicely frozen in bags...

We're Here Because We're Not All There

Happy almost New Year greetings from beautiful Homer, Alaska, where the Kirkland family is getting away from it all at the end of the world. Or at least, to Homerites we are at the end of the world.
Homer sits on the tip of the Kenai Peninsula, about 250 miles south of Anchorage. Usually within four hours we can be sitting at the table of our good friends with beer in hand. This was the first time we attempted to drive down in the middle of winter. It took six fist-clenching, teeth-grinding hours.
Our first go at coming down here was stymied by dreadful weather last Thursday, so we postponed a day and left around 8 a.m. on Friday. Dark and icy, the Seward, and then Sertling Highways were quiet, save for the yahoos that kept appearing behind us. Yukon was admirable in the driver's seat, keeping us from sliding into the brink of tragedy. I, on the other hand, had a terrible time.
I hate this road; it is the cause of a hundred different traffic accidents a year. People drive too fast and too stupidly for conditions. Add in moose popping out of the trees, and a recipe for disaster is made.
So off we went, the boys' heads swiveling around at regular intervals to watch for moose, and me adding commentary to Yukon's navigatory ability. "Better watch out, sweetie, that car is passing us." Or, more likely, "Oh shahhhh, watch yourself, slow down, don't follow that guy too close, do you need to put it in 4-wheel drive?"
To his credit, the only sign of any possible agitation on Yukon's part was a slight twitch in his jawline. He knows me too well to listen to me, anyway. But driving along an ice-covered road for hours with two kids and a wife, and anyone can get annoyed.
At any rate, we made it, saw our friends, and went out to dinner at the lovely Cafe' Cups in Homer. The mountains are spectacular, the seafood is incredible, and the Homer atmosphere is one of sublimity. Can't beat that to kick off a new year.