Another commercial fishing season is here, and the race is on to get those potentially lucrative “marker" sets. Back in the good old days, a series of signs designating where fishing was prohibited were placed on posts across the Copper River Flats or typically nailed to trees near various streams and bays on Prince William Sound.
While the road survived, it is definite need of considerable repair. In several places, including sharp curves, the outer banks have eroded all the way up to the white line marking the edge of the pavement.
With the tempo picking up all over town, one can tell another fishing season is right around the corner.
Spring is in the air, with contractors for the U.S. Forest Service and a crew from the Alaska Department of Transportation are taking advantage of unusually dry weather to push ahead on projects near Eyak Lake.
On March 27 of every year, I pause to ponder the impact of the 1964 Great Alaska Earthquake on the Copper River Delta. Prior to the 9-foot uplift caused by that 9.2 magnitude event, much of the Delta was a broad intertidal plain.
How many chairlifts would you guess there are in the United States? Well, Peter Landsman, a lift supervisor at Jackson Hole Mountain Resort, in Wyoming, recently completed a 22-year quest to ride, photograph, and document every one of them. While discovering the magic number was 2,381, the one he tagged as most challenging to document is right out our backdoor.
Cordovans are famous for their generous help to those in need. A recent PBS TV News Special Report described another group of small-town people that are doing something special for those devastated by unforeseen events.
At the end of Part II of this saga, we had made it back to the Alaganik landing from our cabin at Pete Dahl, only to discover the Copper River Highway had washed out near the Sheridan River Bridge. There were no cell phones in 1966, so we were stranded and out of touch.
In September 1966, with abundant sunshine and a brushless Copper River Delta in the background, my wife-to-be Sue was all smiles after a two-hour cruise/hike to our duck cabin at Pete Dahl. Photo courtesy of Dick Shellhorn
The Alaganik Landing road was built shortly after the 1964 Good Friday earthquake to provide tidal access to Alaganik Slough, which was now 9-feet shallower due to the uplift caused by that major geological event.