Econoliner (Road Hog Weekend)

[Originally posted as part of "Road Hog Weekend," on The Real World...Blogger Style!]

When I think of living in Alaska, I think of driving around in a Ford Econoliner from the late 1970s.

My brother Todd purchased our first Econoliner down in Indiana. He added some special features to the original green van, most notably: a set of sexy mannequin legs protruding from one of the back walls:

Todd's customization job.

The legs were eventually removed so he could install bunk beds for his road trip to, and back from, Alaska. I was able to participate in the Green Econoliner's second Alaska trip in 1994 (documented in Van Log '94).

Mel, Laura, me, & Todd: Ready to set off to Alaska.

One of the green Econoliner's cool features was that the walls were covered with yellow shag carpeting. Carpeted walls = comfort:

Carpet.

In Alaska, the green van was more often referred to as the, "green egg van." This is because of a fried egg sticker Todd had adhered to it. People always asked what it meant. They usually took it to be reference to, "This is your brain on drugs." 

The "Green Egg Van" in Seward, AK.

While Todd drove and lived in the green egg van in Valdez, I relocated to Anchorage where I purchased a second, blue, Econoliner from a co-worker. This is the one I accidentally shot a hole in during my first day on a new job.

At the end of the salmon season, when Todd came back through town, the Gill Bros had two Econoliners on the streets of Anchorage. 

Two Gills in two Econoliners.

After that summer, Todd left me the green van and flew back down to Indiana, so I was blessed with two Econoliners.  I drove one and let Donald Kilbuck use the other one. They both made it through my first Alaskan winter. 

The Green Egg van turned back to Todd when he returned the following summer. It was ultimately deserted in Valdez after its transmission went out. Reportedly though, it would still drive in reverse for awhile and Todd tells me they would occasionally take it on a short drive into town in reverse!

The blue van became Donald's and he continued to drive it into the late 1990s when it finally gave up the ghost. By then, it had a steel bar welded to the front, acting as a homemade bumper and a patchy blue pattern from Donald spray painting over rust spots.

Let the Sun Shine: Donald & the blue Econoliner.

The blue Econoliner from my apartment window, Anchorage, 1997.

[Originally posted on The Real World...Blogger Style!, Feb. 12, 2006]

AK Autos

While I'm recalling Alaska, they had two vehicle modifications that I don't believe are common in most of the lower 48 (states).

1. Studded Tires - Every year, everybody swaps their tires for winter tires which include dull metal studs to maintain traction of frozen roads.

Tire stud informational display.

People sometimes use chains in the continental states, but the studs are better for long-term daily use (winters are a lot longer up there).

They're an extra expense, the unused set of tires (studded in summer, regular in winter) requires storage space, and changing them is another annoying task on the To-Do list every 6 months or so.

2. Engine Heaters - Alaskan vehicles come equipped with a small heater in the engine; it plugs into an extension cord and is necessary to prevent the engine oil from freezing overnight. So, the cars have little plugs coming out of their grills. It's common practice to plug in the car at night during the coldest couple of months of the year.

In Anchorage, modern apartment complexes had electrical outlets available on posts located in the parking lot, one for each parking space.

In Dillingham, we would run an industrial extension cord from the house to the van.

Here is a photo of me changing a tire on the ice, using a lever made from firewood to assist my piece-of-crap jack:

Changing a tire in a frozen driveway.

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Dec. 29 2004]

Walk Dude

Dillingham, Alaska, when my brother Todd and I were there (1995–1997), was a very secluded part of the world—it still is, I guess, but internet availability probably changes a lot. When I was there, we had no internet, though we did have cable TV, so we weren’t entirely disconnected in terms of information, even back then. It was certainly physically disconnected, though. There were no roads to or from Dillingham; it was more of a hub town for a handful of scattered Yu'pik villages and a boat harbor with access to Bristol Bay. No fast food, though there were a couple of restaurants, bars, and grocery stores.

One year, our supervisor directed us to participate in the local parade. We drove the company van through the streets of Dillingham. While we didn’t have it together enough to create a proper float, we felt we should haul something, so we put an old Nordic Track exercise machine on the flatbed trailer and hauled that behind us. Our supervisor created a wooden figure which we all referred to as the “Walk Dude.” We added a few balloons and some signage to identify ourselves, and we were good to go.

The company van.

The "Walk Dude."

Signage, balloons, and brother Todd.

Driving into town.

It may not have been the most impressive parade float to ever see the light of day, but it served its purpose and it was hilarious. The weather was also terrible for a parade which made the whole endeavor ridiculous.

Once we hit town, there was a pretty good turnout:

 We threw out so much candy. The kids loved it.

 

It was pretty fun hauling a muddy balloon-decorated Nordic Track through town on a flatbed and throwing candy to the crowd.

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Dec. 11 2004]

Death to Tyrants

When we were living in rural Alaska, my brother Todd and I decided to celebrate one particular 4th of July by building and burning a tyrant's effigy. He had a balloon head and a body stuffed with straw. Went up in flames good, like a tyrant should.

Here's pics:

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Jan. 4, 2004]

Potato Launcher

Probably our most outrageous source of entertainment in Dillingham was the potato launcher.

Our boss built it from PVC pipe—just the right diameter to snugly fit a potato down the barrel. At the base, he attached a wider plastic chamber with a screw-off cap, where we’d spray in the “fuel”: Aqua Net hairspray. (It worked great until they changed the formula; after that, we had to switch brands. The key was finding something flammable.)

He rigged it with an old electric grill starter and a bolt inside the chamber, so all it took was pressing a red button to send a spark across the chamber and ignite the hairspray. We kept a broomstick handy to use as a ramrod whenever a potato didn’t quite fit.

When you hit the button, it let off a loud bang that echoed through the trees, and the potato launched with surprising velocity. My supervisor once speculated that a direct hit could break a man’s ribs.

Potato Launcher.

Taking aim.

Todd prepares to launch a potato.

We used to set up targets in the backyard and fire the potato gun at them—usually an old trash can lid propped up with rocks.

That was one of the perks of living in the middle of nowhere. There’s no way we could’ve gotten away with that in a suburban neighborhood without drawing the attention of the neighbors—and probably law enforcement.

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Dec. 17, 2004]

Aleknagik

Besides fishing, you could also screw around in watercraft on Lake Aleknagik, though that was often incorporated into fishing as well.

Our crew, most days.

Skif Pilot Jonnie.

 One section of Lake Aleknagik featured the wreckage of a WWII barge which we enjoyed climbing around on.

The old barge.

Todd welcoming us aboard.

Glen tying anchoring our skif to the barge.

Fishing off the barge.

Fishing off the barge was amazing, the river's current would momentarily trap the salmon against the barge and you could look right down at them. Theoretically, the salmon wouldn't even have to bite, it would not be difficult to just snag them with your hook ("snagging" is illegal by the way, it wasn't uncommon for Fish & Game to check your fish to make sure they were hooked legally in the mouth).

It was also fun to explore the barge, though most of it was flooded. I don't know any of the barge's history, except that it was from WWII and that it was too expensive to remove and dispose of it. As of the mid-1990s, it had just been sitting there for fifty years or so.

Remains of a WWII era bathroom.

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Dec. 21 2004]

Experiences with Canned Meat

[From RW...BS's "Canned Meat Weekend" (July 22-24, 2005)]

Canned meat has been a part of my life, and I’m happy to share this memory:

Chicken of the Sea – Back when I was living in the Alaskan Bush (pre-internet), entertainment was scarce. To pass the time, I started writing to companies in hopes of getting free coupons. One day, I wrote a letter to Chicken of the Sea, claiming that I had found a chicken feather in my can of tuna. I told them it was probably the result of a worker on the production line who thought it would be funny play on the product name.

Chicken of the Sea replied, saying that it was very unlikely for a worker to have done that, due to their stringent quality control processes. However, they did send me two coupons for free cans of tuna.

[Originally posted on The Real World...Blogger Style!, July 23, 2005]

Alaska Scrap Book

The scenery:

Seward Boat Harbor.

Big fish:

Me with a salmon I caught.

Blue waters:

Either Snake Lake, or Lake Aleknagik.

 Baby bears:

Baby Bear on the shore of Lake Aleknagik.

 Caribou ribs:

Brother Todd eating a caribou rib.

Look at the size of that rib! It is like something out of the Flintstones!

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Jan. 4, 2004]

Salmon Days

Also in Dillingham - so much salmon!

You could catch a lot just by fishing for them normally, but members of the native population were able to apply for set net permits, which would really bring in a bounty. Set netting involves anchoring and setting out a net on the beach at low tide. The net fills with fish at high tide, then you return again at the next low tide to gather your catch.

This method made for an abundant catch, but it also involved a lot of work cleaning all the fish before they went bad. It also required a lot of freezer space, but it only took setting the net two or three times to be supplied with salmon for the rest of the year.

After a day of fishing.

Checking the set net at low tide.

After unloading the set net, we'd make a processing line in the yard then haul all the guts & bones to the dump so they wouldn't attract bears.

Fillet-master Mike.

Look at those fillets.

DP & me.

 We would catch so many, our freezers would fill up, so we would smoke the fish for preservation.  I really miss having all that smoked salmon around.

Gill Bros. checking the smoker.

Smoked deliciousness.

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Dec. 16 2004]

Remembering 4th Ave.

At the Gaslight w/ Dale.

I don't spend much (actually, any) time in bars these days, but I used to when I lived in Anchorage. I wish I had half the money I've pissed away in Anchorage bars.

My favorite spot was the downtown 4th Avenue district; they had a great selection of working-class dive bars there, never mind the occasional shooting. If you got kicked out of one, or if you were just bored, you could walk down the street and hang out at a different one.

In my mind at the time, 4th Avenue was a magical place where anything could happen. I used to have a ton of 4th Avenue bar stories, but I've forgotten most of them. They were never all that great anyway, once sobriety set in.

When there was music at all, it wasn't too loud, so you could better eavesdrop on people talking shit to each other, which I appreciated.

I'd always tell people how great the 4th Avenue bars were, then they'd join me and nothing interesting would happen. That's about when I realized my ton of 4th Avenue bar stories was more the result of my hanging out there constantly, rather than anything to do with the character of the bars themselves. If you hang out anywhere day and night, you're bound to witness a few interesting occurrences.

Anyway, the 4th Avenue dive bars were a lot of fun at one time, and they gave me something to do in Anchorage, but I probably did persist with it past its prime. Oh well.

Donald Kilbuck: Selected Correspondence In

Donald (left) & me (right) in Anchorage; Winter, 1994.

Excerpted from personal correspondence with Donald Wy. Kilbuck:

Hurry up and get up here with all the tools that you can find along the way.

Cash is good! With all my emotional cash shortage my wallet is empty. I feel fine even though i am broke i still have my truck too drive around with. 

I guess in order to swim in this world we got to take care of our best beastly body.

God help us all i am not all here. This must be another hell hole that God made for all the bad people too enjoy. Lot of nuts at work. 

I SEEN SOME WILD BIRD THAT NEEDED TO BE BLOW DARTED AT OR BOW N ARROW, BUT NOTHING AT HAND OR ANY CAMERA TO SHOOT THE FEATHERED FEAST.

I AM COMING DOWN WITH A COLD OR WHATEVER IT IS.

Jon! I will probably be at Dutch Harbor processing fish where the people will not be afraid of my straight forward threats that don't really mean anything.

I am harvesting all the ocean's flavors.

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, June 29, 2004]

Found Photo

I found this laying on the ground in Anchorage, Alaska:

I don't know...pumpkin carving school?

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Dec. 21, 2003]

Found Photo

I found this one in Anchorage as well:

Anchorage is for lovers.

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Dec. 29, 2003]

PS -

I spruced this photo up a bit for Valentine'd Day, 2020:

Found Photo

Found laying around in a public area in Fort Wayne, Indiana:

Found photo.

Fort Wayne is for lovers.

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, June 23, 2004]

Meet Donald Kilbuck

This is Donald Wy. Kilbuck:

Donald Kilbuck eating a tortilla in Homer, AK.

I met Donald in Valdez, Alaska, and was surprised when he told me he'd just been released from prison. I guess at some point in the past, his brother-in-law had been violent toward Donald's sister, so Donald went after him with a knife. During the trial, the judge asked Donald if he had any remorse, and Donald replied, "Yes. I wish I would have done him in." He then laughed out loud about it, so he got the full extent of the sentence. He says his jail cell gave him a really good view of Mt. Redoubt's volcanic eruption in 1989.

Here we are (with my friend James, in the back) in Cordova:

Donald, James, & me in Cordova, Alaska.

Donald led us to believe he knew people who would put us up in Cordova, so we took the ferry over with him. Cordova is inaccessible by the highway system, so it was a unique chance to visit a place that isn't terribly easy to reach. We weren't very welcome when we showed up at the local preacher's house during dinner. He looked very surprised to see Donald but did not invite us in. Instead, we spent the night in a tent, in the rain, then explored town the next day.

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Feb. 6, 2004]

Raymond is a Gangsta

In Anchorage, I was working with severe schizophrenics for awhile. They'd been released from the mental institution & were transitioning by living under supervision in a block of apartments with an adjoining staff area so they could have their living skills evaluated before being set out to fend for themselves in the community.

There was this guy, Raymond, who constantly had his coffee maker on. He just refused to shut it off. It started to melt-down & was determined a fire hazard by the staff, so they removed it. 

He was without coffee for a couple of days until, one day, I dropped by on my rounds & Raymond is sitting on his couch enjoying a hot cup of coffee like usual. 

Me: "Hey, they got you a new coffee maker"?

Raymond: "Nah, I've been making it in the dishwasher".

Me: "?????????????"

Upon checking the dishwasher, sure enough, he was tossing in a bunch of coffee grounds instead of soap, running a cycle, & stopping it before the water drained out. The entire bottom of the dishwasher was full of hot coffee. Then it was just a matter of dipping a cup in there.

And this is how Raymond came to be known as, "the Schizophrenic McGuyver."

- - - - - - 

The only other thing I know about Raymond is that he used to use pages from the Bible as rolling papers for cigarettes. I think he just did it to get people worked up.

He also is said to have purchased a new car with a briefcase full of cash at one point in the past, but that may or may not be just a story.

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Jan. 3, 2004]

First Impressions

When I had recently arrived in Anchorage and was getting on my feet, I bought a van real cheap from a co-worker. The next morning, I was starting a second job working with disabled kids. 

I drove that van on my first day of work and I remember having a completely overbearing head cold at the time. I was parked in front of the home of the individuals I would be assisting while I was digging in the back of the van looking for some Kleenex when I noticed a large sawed-off shotgun underneath the back seat! 

I don't know what I was thinking (I was ill and disoriented at the time), but I picked it up and pulled the trigger (I guess to see if it worked). I remember an explosive, "BLAMMM!!", followed by a deafening ringing in my ears and the smell of gun powder. It was loaded! 

Shotgun blast hole with swiss army knife for scale.

Blew a hole right through the side of my new van. Right in the parking lot of my new workplace on my first day! I just remember smelling smoke and my ears ringing like crazy and being glad nobody was outside in the parking lot who might have been caught by the blast. The lady who ran the house came running out and asked me what was going on. All I could think about was my head cold and I didn't want to explain it all to her, so I stupidly stuck my head out the window, held up the shotgun and said, "I just shot a hole in my van. I have a head cold," as if that explained anything. 

Well, they say the first impression you make on somebody is the one they will always remember and you'd think I made a pretty bad one that day; but if that's the case, you'd never know it. She didn't say a word, she just turned around and went back in the house. I came in a little later and started my first shift. We later became friendly acquaintances, but she NEVER mentioned the incident as long as I knew her.

The photograph below shows brother Todd holding his Swiss Army knife by the shotgun hole for scale. If the shot had landed a foot or so to the left, where the gas tank is located, I may not have lived to tell the stupid tale.

Blue Moon

Me & YaYa in Anchorage, 1994.

Shortly after YaYa and I arrived in Anchorage, we were staying in a youth hostel and walking around downtown all day applying for work. One afternoon, we decided we needed to get off our feet for awhile. I wanted a beer and Yaya wanted to sit down and browse the newspaper, so we stepped into a bar called the Blue Moon. We did not know the Blue Moon was a gay bar when we walked in, but we soon got the drift.

At first, everything seemed normal, except the bartender bought me a beer, which never happens. When I was finished, he refilled it a second time for free.

Just as I as thinking, "What a cool guy!", I realized I had to use the restroom. On the way, I noticed a lot of gay literature displayed proudly all around; then suddenly everything made sense. I returned to our spot and nudged YaYa, whispering, "We have to get out of here."

YaYa looked perplexed, so I added, "This is a gay bar".
He stood up and we immediately headed for the door.

The experience may have traumatized YaYa. A few days later, I was calling us a cab to get across town and he stated confidentially, "You must be careful. It may be a gay taxi cab."

Valdez Pat

Forgot about this guy:

Pat.

 We met Pat in Valdez, Alaska, after our roadtrip from the midwest. He used to smoke pot out of a hollowed-out deer antler.

Pat samples Laura's campfire cooking as YaYa laughs (right)..

I remember him telling us his first ancestor to arrive in America spent their first night in America in jail. He said that as soon as land was in sight, his ancestor grabbed the first mate and threw him overboard because he'd been giving him shit during the entire journey.

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Feb. 24, 2004]