What a day. I woke up early in the AM and hopped out of the tent to go to the bathroom. What I saw left me more than excited. A foggy haze was rose off the river and for the first time in nearly twenty days, sun and blue skies. Right then I know today would be great. 

It had been so long since we had last felt the warmth of the sun. We took the opportunity to dry out all our clothes and gear that had been constantly saturated for the last twenty days. 

For breakfast we enjoyed pancakes with freshly picked raspberries that Jackson had gathered from the bushed around camp. The sun, weather and wind was such an enjoyment. 

On the water we passed dozens of local fisherman out with gill nets harvesting silver coho salmon for commercial production. As we paddled by one boat, a pair of fellas motored over to us and asked if we wanted a fish. Well duh! One of the pair pulled a nice sized silver from his holding container and handed me the fish. Without much conversation they rolled away, off to try a new spot. 

Weather wise the day was perfect - glass water for much of the day with blue skies interrupted by large fluffy that you might see on into to the Simpsons. 

In the evening we found a great campspot. I filled the fish and we fried it over the campfire with a side of pesto pasta. This salmon had to be the best fish I’ve ever had. So, so good. After dinner we sat around the campfire, talking about life, our families and the trip. 

With just forty miles to Emmonk, the reality that the trip is coming to an end has set in. If all goes to plan, tomorrow night we will be camping near Emmonk, and reach the Bering Sea the day after tomorrow. It’s an odd thing to think of, and a bittersweet reality for me. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed this trip, and even more, so thoroughly enjoy camping and a life in the woods. With no job, no real leads and no real career path to follow when I return to the front country, bush life doesn't seem so bad. I know things will work out, I just feel in limbo at the moment. Regardless, I’m glad I committed to this trip and followed through on the plan. In the next few days I need to come up with some concrete things I can bring  back with to the front country.  

It’s so easy to get back into the swing of normal life and loose all the feelings, thoughts and emotions taken from this journey. I’d like to write a book. It’d be neat to monetize this experience and sell books, but even more than that, it’s something I can have forever and build on as my legacy. A book to share this amazing experience I’ve had with others, my family and friends, and possible future kids. I’d like to leave a legacy, and a book would be a great way to do it. 

It’s odd to think that tonight is likely my last night camping in the bush of Alaska, at least for this trip. I know I’ll be back. When and where, I can’t say, but when the wilds of Alaska call again, I sure as hell hope I answer.