A Wrangell Wedding (and some High Country pics)

June in Wrangell has thus far been highlighted with seven straight days of sunshine. Unfortunately, right now we’re in the midst of what will probably be at least seven days of rain, if not more. In honor of the grey and rain, I had the laziest weekend imaginable – slept in late, took hours to get out of bed once I did wake up, and lazed around the rest of the day. Perhaps it was the lack of activity that has caused this beginning-of-the-week malaise.

One thing I did do was attended my upstairs neighbors’ wedding reception. It was an affair of grilled meat and fish, a plethora of pasta salads, dips, homemade bread, a ton of icicle lights strung over the beams in a wooden shelter, paper wedding bells, a violin playing groom, jeans, fleeces, flowers donated by the local grocer, and broom ball.

It was the most romantic reception I had ever attended, sentimental and meaningful without being cheesy or extreme. The couple, Chris and Christine (I know, their matching names seems gag-worthy, but they are a really cool couple) had gotten married at the Three Sisters overlook with only each set of parents in attendance.

Chris is from Wisconsin and about to enter a PhD program in music composition at Santa Barbara; Christine is from Pennsylvania and has been the rotating medical student in Wrangell for the past six weeks. She is about to enter her fourth year of medical school at the University of Washington. I know – they just got married and are about to enter a long distance relationship. In their eyes, at least they’ll be on the same coast. For the past couple of years prior to their time in Alaska, they had been on separate coasts – she in Seattle; he in Boston. And they still made it work. I guess greater feats of love have been accomplished, but I still give them credit for attempting and succeeding.

The most expensive aspect about the reception was probably the case of bottled white and red wines. All the food was homemade (well, the cake was made by the baker). The wine glasses were plastic cups. We ate on paper plates and sat on picnic tables. The music was provided by the groom and his violin when he serenaded the bride with his extended version of the Postal Service’s ‘Such Great Heights.’ Everyone, as is standard in Wrangell whether it’s a wedding or funeral or a day fishing, was dressed casually. The most dressed up person there was probably Dan Nore with his overalls. And, although there was no dancing, there was broomball which is like hockey but with brooms and a kickball and no ice. As much as I didn’t want to, I was forced to play barefoot (as I wasn’t prepared with proper broomball footwear) when a boy got hit in the mouth during a face off.

There was good conversation, good food, and a good vibe. There was no pressure or stress or pretension. Everyone was as they were, which was happy for the newlywed couple. Chris and Christine’s honeymoon includes kayaking to and from their destination, a floatplane, and a secluded cabin.

I was sad that I didn’t bring my camera because I would love to post pictures of a Wrangell wedding reception. Maybe I can get them later from someone else.

For now though, I’ll post some picture from my hiking/camping trip two weekends ago to High Country shelter which was my first experience backpack camping. This was during that seven-day sun stretch. It was awesome.



It was so hot that day, I hiked the three miles up in birks despite the patches of snow. My feet definitely felt the wear more on the way down. Here is one of the views from the top.



Where we camped, hence the tent.



With the solstice coming up on Wednesday, the sky never got completely dark. It was a perpetual sunset all night.

I CAUGHT ONE

It might be the smallest recorded Derby fish weighed in this year, perhaps ever, but it’s still my first king salmon. It measured 28 inches (minimum required length) and weighed… (drum roll) 10.6 pounds.

To give you some perspective on how small that is, when people say they caught a small one, people assume the weight’s in the 20s. Right now, the current derby leader is 47.5 pounds and past winners are usually in the 50s, 60s and 70s. Regardless, I’m super psyched about my first catch (actually to be fair to myself, earlier that day I had caught a flounder and a sculpin. The sculpin was really cool looking and had these parts which stuck out that emitted poison. It was interesting to get both of them off the hook and see them swim away unfazed). Everyone, when they heard how small my fish was, would say, “Those taste better.” That’s my consolation.

This was on Sunday, around 4 p.m. We had started fishing around 10 a.m. Maria and I were on Kevin’s boat. Right after I caught mine, Maria caught her second king salmon. It was twice as big as mine.

The Little Things

There are some things about living in Wrangell that are cause for notice. While I do write the news for this town, it’s the smaller things that make me sit tall in my desk chair (which faces the windows that look out into Front Street, Wrangell’s busiest street, the street that runs through town).

For instance, my favorite old man in town – this elder Japanese man who squishes his face and walks all over town all day with his cane – just walked by the office windows wearing a different outer layer. For as long as I’ve known him, roughly six months through the winter and spring, he’s worn this blue and black heavy flannel, plaid jacket type layer. And just now, he was wearing a black snap-button windbreaker type layer. I almost didn’t recognize him.

Jordan, the paperboy, also threw me off. Not only did he come around 10 a.m. instead of 3 p.m. (school just got out last Thursday), he also came by bike instead of his normal mode of transport which was his own two feet. He didn’t have his huge backpack with him, nor was he wearing his winter coat, just a fleece pullover. Plus, as a responsible biker should, he was wearing a helmet instead of his usual earflap hat or baseball cap.

The bike proved its purpose as he delivered all thirty papers (which he never does; his usual average is around nineteen) in less than an hour. He profited well, I think, making around $10. As the paperboy, Jordan gets $.25 for every paper he sells (each one costs $1) and gets to keep the tips. Having a little kid paperboy is one of those small town features I love about Wrangell.