Life in a nutty shell

We made the trip back from Chicago with no hassles. Unless you call a severe thunderstorm a hassle. We returned via a route that was different than on the way up and I wish we had been able to see more of it during the daylight. It really was pretty, for farmland.
This is more like what I would call pretty. The picture is of a place called Tangles Lakes, Alaska. This is barren country. Tundra and mountains abound. Every mountain within eyesight of where this picture was taken, I have been to the top of in search of caribou and or moose or just out picking blueberries with my family, or hiking back to fishing streams.

This is the same lake that when I was a kid learning how to hunt, I rode a skateboard (sitting down) down a 4 mile long hill.. only to realize afterwards that I had to hike back up. The hill ended where the lake pictured above begins. When I turned around to begin the trek back up the hill, I noticed that the road had curved. Surely it would be shorter to hike across the tundra in a straight line. I lived to tell you that this was probably the dumbest thing I ever tried to accomplish in the wilds of Alaska. The tundra, while looking innocent and flat, is anything but. There are valleys where you cant see them, there are holes that could break the strongest of ankles and willows that could hold the best escape artist firm.

Tangles Lakes is hat I named the dog I have now after. We had a dog previously that we took on one of the fishing trips back at the base of the mountain pictured above. We hiked about 2 miles to some of the best Arctic Grayling fishing on earth. On the way out, the dog chased ground squirrels in a fashion similar to the kids game whack-a-mole. The squirrel would pop up in a hole, the dog would run to catch it, the squirrel would duck down the hole only to pop up several yards away in another hole. This continued all the way to the creek. I am sure the dog ran 10 miles vs. the two we hiked. When we finally crawled in the tent that night, the dog fell asleep sitting up. When I pushed on his shoulder, he fell to the floor like a sack of potatoes and barely moved all night. This is why after we had to put him down a few years ago, when we got another dog that acted so much like him, we had to name him Tangles.

Tangles Lakes is also where I took my wife not long after we were married to go fishing. It was the same trip mentioned above that my wife learned to fly fish. She got herself all ready to fish, including hip waders and got out into the stream. A few casts later, SPLASH. I thought for sure the rip and any chance of her ever enjoying the outdoors were over. Instead, she worked her way back to the bank, slipped off the waders, emptied the water, put them back on and kept fishing. I knew then this was a match made in heaven.

Tangles Lakes holds a special place in my heart for a lot more reasons than just these stories. This was where I spent the first two weeks of every September from 9 years old to about 18. It is where my dad taught me to hunt. It is where I killed my first big game animal. It is where I had my first beer. I miss it. I pray I see it again....SOON!