Alaska - primitive living

On day two, we took about an hour long boat ride north of Sitka to an area called "Allan Point" on the Nakwasina Sound which was to be our destination for the next couple of days. The inventory at Allan Point includes: 1 cabin, 2 rope swings that would make Tarzan envious, 1 outhouse with bullet holes in the doors and the lock mechanism mangled and knawed off most likely by a bear, and about 4 billion-gazillion trees. Here, I lived like Laura Ingalls Wilder, only slightly more drunk and definitely more tired.

We had to anchor the boat a ways out from shore to accommodate the tidal changes, so Carolyn and I got the pleasure of rowing sleeping bags, coleman stoves, pots and pans and bags of food back and forth in the rain. This was not, however, unpleasant, as I enjoy anything that involves me being as close to water as possible, and when circumstances did become unpleasant (which wasn't that often), I simply pretended like I was a contestant on "Survivor" and that brought me right quick to a happy place.

In the cabin, I browsed through a guest log of previous adventure-seekers of Allen Point cabin to learn that our predecesors from the weekend before were a lovely father/son duo out for some classic male bonding. The journal entry went like this: "shot up some more beer cans this afternoon. dad was takin' a crap in the outhouse and i think i scared the turd right outta him. ha ha. no dad, this is NOT A DRILL!" Retyping this doesn't do it nearly as much justice as the dramatic reading I performed for Carolyn, but you get the gist.

From the bottom up, we have a photo of the cabin, POV of boat. Photo 2, C-MAC and E-RAE rowing along in the rain. The two middle shots are of the cabin dining/kitchen area and the upstairs sleeping quarters. Note the posh luxury bed accommodations designed special for your spine-numbing pleasure. And the top photo is well... essentially, a path to the outhouse. We were surrounded by thick forest.