It was the usual Monday morning greeting at work. The receptionist asked about my weekend, and I said something about riding on the Kenai Peninsula. Her immediate response was, “Did you fish?”
This might be my biggest disconnect with many of my fellow Alaskans. For most of them—at least in this part of the state—the words “weekend” and “Kenai” mean fishing. To me, they mean mountain biking.
A similar exchange occurred one day last summer when I was out in the driveway getting the camper ready for a trip, and my next-door neighbor walked over and excitedly asked, “You going fishing?” And this is a neighbor who has watched me ride bicycles through all seasons for several years, but has never seen me carry a fishing rod to the car. Maybe she was just excited by the thought of me seeming normal, for a change.
I don’t mind a little fishing now and then, but it’s a low priority. It’s pretty sedentary. And it’s nowhere near as thrilling as zooming down a nice piece of singletrack.
Besides, I can buy salmon and halibut at the grocery store, if necessary.
But the grocery store doesn’t sell trail time.