After dinner and beer at Buckets, we made our way back to the cabin, which we hadn't stayed in for three years. The canal looked about the same as it did in 2008, possibly with a few more moose-munched cottonwood trees growing here and there along the bank.We walked around and looked at the sights:
Boats.
Reflections from boats and cabins.
Float planes and more reflections.
Old, licheny docks and fish-cleaning tables.
More float planes, this one roaring by to land upriver.
After the seaplane landed, it taxied up the canal to pull in and tie up. While we were there, several float planes came to stay near the canal by the cabin; I counted as many as four at once, maybe five. These are quite popular for hieing down to the river when the reds come running in large numbers, as they had a couple days prior to our arrival on the Kenai. The sockeye surge was just beginning to come into the upper river, and fish-cleaning operations were going on all around us. People typically have tables right along the river or canalside; some fishermen and fisherwomen bring portable cleaning tables over to the river from their off-river cabins.
We decided to go for a walk, to check out a fishing spot I knew we could use (if we could just figure out how to put wet flies on rods for the reds or could find any non-leaky hip waders).Sights seen along the way:
Leaves, twigs, and dried spruce needles.
Cotton from cottonwood trees, on what looks like gravel from graywacke.
Miscellaneous cabinish junk and Alaskana, including this scenic (IMO) old pickup.
Fishing related decorations: old floats.
Fishing-related decorations on cabins, garages, and carports.
We did make it down to the fishing hole, decided to wait for further instructions from the fisher-people arriving the next day, a day that would be dedicated to fishing, getting new hip waders, and eating dinner at the St. Elias Brewery.
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