Special thanks to Alonzo from Nulato. He was the one working on the new school in town that when I walked in and asked him if there was a store that was open on Sunday he said that it was three miles up and the road and so then we both got into his truck and he drove me there. Store was closed, I guess the owners were up at the boat race in Galena and didn't want to open that day. But on the way back I asked about internet and he took me to his house and gave me his password and went back to work, leaving me to do some work for an hour at his kitchen table, and listen to his roomate Mike, a painter. I never saw Alonzo again as I walked back to the boat through town. I love this town.
We battled our way up here today through a fierce headwind and waves that were washing the deck and found a great place to tie up inside a side channel out of the wind and waves next to about 15 other boats. The wind never let up that evening so we spent the night tied up in town and slept restlessly as we both hoped for an early start the next day to try to get ahead of the wind that has been killing us and that always builds in the afternoon.
The morning was cold, about 40, and calm. While I made coffee Jeff untied us and we backed into the channel. Running steady with our backs to the northern sun, bundled against the cold, we passed a great morning through the stunning Onoko National Wildlife Refuge. We were in Kaltag before noon, spotting the first fish processor we had seen on the river so far as well as a couple new fishwheels being built. The guys here fish commercially with fishwheels, a giant rotating log and wire set of baskets that spin with the current of the river and dump the catch into a pen alongside. They are floated on large log rafts and brought out every summer and tied to trees on shore. A nice couple, Morris and Marlene from Shageluk walked over to talk. They saw us the night before and wanted to have a closer look at the boat, walking through and checking out the whole set-up. They also don't mind getting unto a small boat and going seven hours upriver to visit relatives and visit.
After lunch we ran steady again through fantastically calm stretches still alongside big mountains, not too much wildlife though we did see some giant bear prints on the bank, and did not see any people all day outside of our town stop for lunch. The rest of the afternoon we made great time and traveled over 100 miles, camping at the tail end of a beautiful small island, pulled up close on one of those hard mud cutbanks walking the mud in the twighlight and looking at the animal tracks.
Riding the river right up close against the mountain range that defines one bank, through a calm and cold day we made for the village of Grayling for fuel and a look around. While Jeff changed the spark plugs on the motor and cleaned out the cottonwood seeds from the water intake (the cottonwoods are in full bloom and in places the river is white with cotton) I walked to town pulling the cart with the empty gas jug behind me. The people in the store were very friendly, everyone is, and called up to the guys at the gas store to let them know that I was coming. It really isn't a gas station, just a single pump locked in a small building right beside a couple guys who were fixing their four wheelers. I waited for a while for an attendant then walked the block long path through tall grass to the gas station office. I paid inside then walked back to the pump a block away, with the attendant, to fill up. Down the road I walked into the village tribal center and asked about internet. There were some elders there sitting and some kids playing, the place had some big couches and large folding tables and a kitchen on one end.
On the way back to the boat with my gas and internet done, I ran into 79 year old Fred Howard who wanted to have a closer look at our boat. He was especially impressed with the 1978 Evinrude motor that we have as everyone here runs new Honda 4 stroke engines. By 2 o'clock we were running downstream to Anvik, 15 miles away hoping to look up the only person that we know who lives along the river.
