Coming to You from Pilot Station

The beach in Hooper Bay is hard packed and speckled with shells and driftwood, perfect for picnics, but alas, not for me. Early in the morning, we could see the lights of Chevak across the water.

The flight to the YK Delta on Wednesday was a little bumpy and crowded, but it was just overcast in Bethel, in sharp contrast to many of my visits there, including one in which I crawled over glaze ice. We packed the plane into Hooper Bay where the wind was blowing a steady 30. On Thursday, I gave 3 presentations and assisted in giving the welcome to the 100 or so teachers from Lower Yukon School District. As usual, a motley and unique crew, no slaves to fashion, but easy to laugh and very friendly.

Big, beautiful sky and a village nestled into the side of the hill greeted us in Pilot Station.

Pilot Station is gorgeous. We flew 40 minutes on a charter plane inland from the coast into trees, hills and riverbank. On our walk, we saw a steambath (maqivik) going, kids chasing each other, a Bingo hall packed to the gills, a Russian Orthodox church and cemetary, 2 kids with guns, lots of 4 wheelers, 2 kids with homemade slingshots and 2 kids with paws from a recently killed bear. Yep, we're not in Kansas anymore.

Since last I wrote, we dug our puny supply of potatoes...only about 15-20 pounds. They're tasty though. And we visited some "super"kids.
Super Duper Boy!


Another lean year at the farm.