Literally.

Okay so I live in this amazing place surrounded by breathtaking wilderness, but I rarely actually take advantage of that fact.

I mean sure I like to go hiking in the Glenn Alps near my house quite often, and I have certainly spent a lot of quality time camping in years past, but lately I have not really done that many "Alaskan" things.

So when a friend offered to take me fishing my first thought was "Don't they sell those things already breaded and shaped like little sticks?"

But then this thought occurred to me: "Gryphen when was the last time you sat in a river getting eaten by mosquitoes and trying to catch one of your slimy evolutionary precursors so that you could bludgeon it to death on the floor of a leaky boat? Seriously how can you pass this up?"

And is turned out I could pass it up pretty easily actually, but then my friend kind of shamed me, and nobody shames me except my mother who apparently never forgets anything. So right now I am sitting on a river somewhere in the MatSu Valley uncomfortably close to the home of you know who hoping that crazy bitch never learned how to use that rifle scope.

"It looks like bloggers are back on the menu boys."

Seriously I am not really worried about "you-know-who." Especially when I can instead worry about the very real possibility of drowning, being eaten by a bear, or getting a fishhook through my eyeball.

Now since this is me, you can all rest assured that there is more to this story.

However it is something that I have to keep under wraps for a little bit longer.

But once I get to talk about it, holy shit!

I will try to check my comments as often as I can but since I am in the Valley, and I think they are still communicating with smoke signals and bird calls, it may be intermittent.