FLIGHT

There are only two ways to get to Dillingham : By water, or by air. Logically, it follows if you want to get out of Dillingham, you must go out the same way. So here are few pictures of what it looks like to get out of Dillingham by air.

This is the Dillingham Airport. No, really.

This is what it looks like to walk out to the plane. Note the baggage loading on the right.

Preparing to taxi.

Breaking through the clouds and fog.

They always want me to sit on the wing. Not good for pictures,
good if you want a big, strong guy to get you out in an emergency situation.

In winter, this is pretty much all you see while going to Anchorage or coming back.

Ted Stevens Airport in Anchorage. A little bit of an upgrade from Dillingham.

Looking out at the mountains in the background from the main terminal of Ted Stevens Airport in Anchorage.

There's No Place Like Nome

Due to popular demand, here are the pictures of the homestead :

Sunshine on My Shoulder

Those of you old enough will recognize that title, and those young enough will never get the reference. I am sitting outside typing this to be uploaded later. We discovered another thing about Dillingham which, while quite normal to the locals, seems alien to us. The sunrises in the Midwest are pretty straight-forward, organized affairs. The sun comes up, and that, for the day, is pretty much that. The sun arcs across the sky, and sets in due course. 

Not in Dillingham. 

Sunrise here is an hours long affair. While Mark Twain reported of the spectacular sunsets of Muscatine, I would wager he would see their equal in the sunrises of Dillingham. The sun sets about 11:30 pm local time here, but by 5:30 am you have quite usable light. As I am typing this it is precisely 7:15 am, and the sun is just now deigning to peek above the horizon. Instead of an abrupt, linear event, it is a rather meandering, lackadaisical procession that seems to unfold in a time and manner of its own choosing. 

At our temporary quarters we have a coop with several chickens and one rooster. While having his own personal harem would be reason enough to crow, this rooster seems powerfully confused as to his cue to greet the day. It seems as though he will issue a couple of plaintive crows once the light is of a certain intensity, but withhold the full force of his greetings until the sun actually wends it way above the horizon. Then again, this is the same rooster who also sounds off about 6pm every evening as if he expects the sun to obey his command to set. 

The most diaphanous, ethereal clouds of a passing front are leaving behind a cottony blanket of retreat as the sun advances. More dense and sea-driven clouds seek to block the sun's advance upon the day, but the sun will not be denied. Neither will the incoming supply plane, which appears to be a old DC-10, as it punches through the clouds on approach to the Dillingham airport a couple of miles away. 

It is a crisp, almost chilly morning, and I shall now stage a retreat of my own back into the house to prepare for work. The sun, I am sure, can wage its winning battle against the clouds without my witness. 

Drive-By

It is said all big city problems will eventually visit the smaller communities, it's just a question of when. Sadly, we were the victims of a drive by on the way home from work yesterday. 

We were walking along the bike path when it started. The perpetrators were about one-quarter of a mile away when the first report reached our ears. We turned to confront our attacker, but the onslaught was fully automatic by now. We could only gaze, frozen in bewilderment as the vehicle bearing our attacker sped by unhindered. 

I caught only the most brief glimpse of the silver-grey of the muzzle glinting in the sunlight as they passed. I am not quite sure, but I think it was a 44 (lb) Labrador. Yes, we were the victims of a drive-by barking. Only in Dillingham do the dogs get a mobile platform from which to guard their (perceived) territory. 

Photo-pa-looza II

I discovered a little "in" joke among the citizens of Dillingham. Just to see what would happen I searched Google for "Things to Do in Dillingham". I clicked on the first link in the results page, and I was kind of puzzled to be greeted by a blank page. One of the people I work with looked and said :

"Yep. That's about right."

So aside from work (of which I have a lot), and sleep, there really isn't a whole lot else to do in Dillingham unless you have a gun, fishing tackle, boat or a snowmobile. That is, unless you have two good feet and a good camera.

Now that's a fishing boat

A small inlet leading to the bay, at low tide.

Seems like Dillingham has a ton of boats, planes, and Toyotas.
 

Now that's what I call a great job of parking.

It's not like someone will steal it. Or want to.

Dillingham High School on the left.

Even in the middle of nowhere, there's a NAPA.

Taken in the parking lot of AC, one of the two grocery stores.

Again, it's all about the fishing here. 

Looks like noon, taken about 6:00 pm.