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Friday, January 23, 2009

Fish camp in winter

Avery and I rode the snowmachine out on the river the other day. I suspect that we got almost to the next village before I turned around and went back because I didnt really want to get lost.As we were riding, we came across this pretty large conglomerate of fish camps on the edge of the river. They looked so rustic, so deserted, on the brink of becoming a victim of the rivers will,
So patriotic, waiting patiently for the ice to break and the river to flow, for the river to renew the life blood of the tundra and its people,
Waiting for the salmon to run and the people to come chasing them, waiting for the elders to bring their grandchildren to a place where it's easy to pass on the native ways,
Only the ghosts of winter occupying this space. I could almost picture what a bustling place this will be come summer.

1 comment:

Erin said...

You weren't too far away from Oscarville. I know exactly where all these fish camps are. One time, in the spring, I was walking up to Bethel and I was right about at the camp in your second picture when I heard a voice yell from the camp across the river, "Hey! Where's your husband?!"

It scared the crap out of me. I squinted across the slough and saw a man cleaning up his fish camp. I just laughed and said, "I don't have a husband!"

He yelled back, "Well, then you should have a GUN!"

Really, next time you guys are out riding around call me. I will meet you on the trail and bring you down to Oscarville. We can drink tea and can go out skiing or out to the bluffs sledding or something. You are both welcome anytime!