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]

Hyder-ized

While driving through British Columbia, Canada, for what seemed like forever on our road trip to Alaska in 1994, we made a Hyderization pit stop in Hyder, Alaska.

The proper entrance to Alaska is through the Yukon Territory, which was still a long way off, but we learned there was a southern Alaskan town called, "Hyder," accessible through British Columbia. It isn't a proper entrance to Alaska because there are no additional routes into the interior, evidenced by the absence of a customs stop.

We were a little road weary from days of driving and decided it was worth the 200 mile detour off the Alkean Highway to check out Hyder. It was probably a once in a lifetime opportunity. I doubt we will ever be back in Hyder. It is absolutely in the middle of nowhere.

Checking out Hyder, Alaska.

Once we arrived, Hyder looked like kind of a wilderness outpost. There were a few buildings (at least half of which were bars) and a lot of mud.

One guy we met there told us they did try to establish a border patrol office at one point in the town's history, but the locals, "shot it up."

There was not even anything to indicate where the Canada-Alaska border was. The guy we were talking to said, "There used to be a sign, but if fell down, eh?"

We decided to celebrate at the Glacier Inn bar & liquor store. The walls were covered with autographed money, originally from miners staking claims, but in recent years it was probably just drunks.

One wall of the Glacier Inn.

While we were there, the bartender, Caroline, was creating a subliminal message to her boss by stapling $2 bills to the money covered wall to spell out, "Fuck you, Buzzy." She said he would never notice and she would laugh about it for years.

"Fuck you, Buzzy."

The Glacier Inn had a tradition called, "Hyderization," the process of, "getting Hyderized," which consisted of drinking a shot of Everclear.

We recorded Caroline's Hyderization rap on the Van Log cassette tape rec (she was able to recite it super fast, an skill she called, "Speed Hyderization"):

What I have before you is a water chaser, this in the other hand, is a house special. You may not taste it or smell it first. You have to knock it back straight one time & one time only... On the count of 3, down the hatch. 1,2,3. Congratulations, you've just been Hyderized with 1 ounce of Everclear 190 proof straight grain alcohol. Here's you card, sign your name to it...Welcome to Hyder & have a nice day. Bingo! We're done! Thank you.

Getting Hyderized.

After that initiation, they provided you with a souvenir card:

My proof of Hyderization.

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Mar. 12, 2004]

Bozeman Radiator Disaster

Here's a good radiator disaster pic:

Catching our antifreeze leakage in cooking pans.

It was in Bozeman, Montana, during our 1994 drive from Indiana to Alaska, when we sprang a radiator leak. We managed to limp into a Napa auto parts parking lot just before the engine overheated completely. We parked and let everything cool down, catching the leaking antifreeze in pans because we were afraid Napa might kick us off their lot if we flooded it with coolant.

As bad as that seemed, things only got worse from there. Among other disasters, our camp stove decided to give up on us too.

Laura with our faulty camp stove.

Things escalated fast after that. I was trying to help Laura with the stove when I managed to set a can of kerosene on fire. I looked down and saw the fluid around the spout starting to ignite. Without thinking, I hurled the can—straight at the Napa store building. It exploded almost immediately on impact.

Here's the result:

Fire at the Napa store.

I guess I was just thinking in terms of throwing it AWAY from the van and opposite of the van was Napa.

That got the store staff riled up more than antifreeze in their parking lot ever could have. Multiple staff members immediately came pouring out of the building wielding fire extinguishers. My first thought was to take a picture (above).

When brother Todd saw the explosion in his rear-view mirror, he just threw the van in neutral - coasted right over all those pans of antifreeze.

Laura fell down and peed her pants from laughing so hard.

It was freaking hilarious.

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Feb. 10, 2004]

Street Fair

Anchorage street fair, as viewed from the ferris wheel:

View from the ferris wheel, Anchorage, Alaska; May, 1996.

Van Log, 1994: Alaska

7:47 pm: Welcome to Alaska! The pavement begins here! We're now going to Customs to see what happens there. See what kind of shit they give us... Hellfire! Baton down the hatches!! We're at Customs.

Hello.

Where are you all headed?

Valdez.

Where you coming from?

Indiana.

Everybody U.S. citizens?

Yep.

Let me see I.D. from everybody please.

Alright.

Any firearms on board today?

Nope. Noooo....

Go ahead and shut the vehicle off. I want you to come inside and fill out a customs declaration for me.

Okay.

Leave the keys in the ignition. Come on in. Make sure you bring your purses and bags.

That guy inside was the most intimidating fucker I ever saw. I felt guilty. My hands were shaking.

No shit! I thought something in there would pass as pot. He pulled that pin out of my wallet & I thought, "Oh Shit!" and it wasn't even for drugs! I just had it! 

He's good.

They found resin on my knife. The guy knew it was resin, but he didn't want to push the issue because that's all they found. My heart was racing. That was the best customs officer I've ever seen! He should get an award. That guy was a hard ass. He was like, "Grateful Dead...hmmm...You guys have a lot of these..."

But the guys who searched the van were actually pretty nice. They just moved some stuff around. They probably found that note.

No, I had it crumpled up.

They might have though.

They didn't even look under this tag here.

No! They didn't! We could've brought a bale of dope!

No, they probably ran a dog through here and that was it.

Happy to be here. Let's buy a bag. Inside they were talking to a guy and they go, "I'd appreciate it if you don't drop or lose anything because you're on camera". Then the guy's like, "Huh! At least you got the pleasure of sayin' that"! Some hick asshole.

I'm glad to be out of there! I thought for sure I was sunk. I felt guilt for no reason. I started thinking stuff like, "OK, I did lick off those tweezers after I used them for a roach clip, didn't I"?

He didn't give me my knife back! Wait, maybe he did...yes. The law sucks.

We pulled up and he thought, "I'm gonna get these guys".

There's resin all over my knife! All Over!! Fuck, I've got resin on two of the blades that you don't use for anything else but scraping resin. I didn't even think of that. He said, "You'd better clean or lose that knife". I planned to say I bought it at a second hand shop in Montana. But we're in Alaska now! Let's all smoke a cigar! And inhale it! And play Irish drinking songs!! Yeah!!!!

8:28 pm: We made it through Customs. Fuck 'em. Yes, those are fucking Grateful Dead tickets, buddy! I was high every day for two days!! And I dropped acid three times in those twenty days, mother fucker!!! Fuck 'em.

Welcome to Alaska.

Alaskan Moose.

Another flat.

Mel handling the lug nuts.

9:25 pm: OK, we have a kind of mechanical mystery for awhile. Every time we got to 60 miles/hour, it would go, "brrrbbbb!!!!!" & everything would shake, then we heard a "Bam!", so we pulled over. I was sitting in the passenger seat, feeling the vibration, getting a little bit concerned about it & suddenly I heard this "Boom!" that Todd spoke of and, up through the fender, right into my leg, shot a projectile of an unknown consistency - but it kind of hurt. Shot through the vent. So ,the tire is just feeling like dead skin from a sunburn. It was bad, Van Log, real bad. I've got the lug-nuts loose & this is not going to be a problem. That's the sound of a lug nut going none too easy.

Can you move your knee? This jack is a bitch. The tire just rolled away. There we go. Tire in place. Mel's now putting the lug-nuts onto the lug-bolts.

Oh my God, Antifreeze! They were supposed to have fixed that! It's barely leaking. What did they do? We don't know enough to know if they did it or not.

Oh! My head's underneath the van & it's on a jack on a piece of wood! I like it, it's sunny out here. The promised land. We made it. I say we celebrate with some hacky sackin' once we get this done.

I say we go on to Valdez, but the more physical shit we do, the more we'll wear off our buzz.

What are you doing!!?? Kicking a van on a jack!!??

Should I lower it?

What do you want for Christmas next year, Todd?

A jack.

Mel shoe-gooed the Mountie over the hole from the bullet that went through the hole in the van.

...We ate at Pizza Bella and it was great. A feast. We had garlic bread & pizza and we're looking to get air in the tire, but we're not finding any. We're mere hours from Valdez & I'm excited.

Day 9, 1:18 am: There's a moose, unconcerned that we just took a picture of it. It just stood there. Big Ol' Moose. We have to find one with big antlers yet.

2:45 am: We just saw our first Alaskan porcupine walking down the road. My concentration is on the tension at the back of my neck and staying on the road.

3:52 am: I'm still kickin' and trying to get to Valdez. Won't these guys be surprised when they wake up? 91 miles to Valdez! We're gonna be in Valdez on the last full moon of May. When we left home, it was barely a sliver. This is definitely one of the most beautiful nights I've ever seen. The moon is so bright and distracting that I'm using the sun visor so I can pay attention to the road. I'm dead tired but I just can't help it, I've got to keep on truckin'.

4:58 am: 40 miles from Valdez & it's damn cold! We can't see anything, it's damn foggy. We've told you about fog before, but that was nothing but talk. This is Fog. This is bullshit! Goin' downhill in the fog on a mountain. There's a lot of snow. City center of Valdez is 19 miles from here. Laura's taking us all the way to Valdez, she's been driving for hours.

Our journey's almost over. Horse Tail Falls! We're now in Valdez city limits.

Valdez Harbor.

And so we did indeed make the trip! Here we are at our Valdez campsite with one of many new acquaintances - YaYa:

Valdez campground.

We gradually parted ways over the summer, periodically running into each other here & there, in Alaska and elsewhere.

Van Log '94: A Collective Narrative:

Forward by Todd               South Dakota, pt. 1               Washington

Leaving Indiana                South Dakota, pt. 2               British Columbia

Illinois                               Wyoming                               Hyder, AK (side trip)

Wisconsin                         Montana                                Yukon Territory

Minnesota                         Idaho                                     Alaska