Seward, Glaciers and Ferries

Sunset at Deep Creek

Days 36-39

36: From Seward I drove back to Soldotna, which is a few miles south of the Kenai River where I was before.  I heard an advertisement on the radio about there being a party at Hooligans Bar.  I stopped by, which turned out to be a raging party since it was a Friday night.  I met a couple from Tok who were summer time workers in AK.  Jim is a wilderness fire-fighter, whose season began in April and ran until the end of September.  Given that he works mostly overtime and has had only seven days off all season, he gets paid handsomely.  In fact, this is the only work he does all year so that during his time off, he spends months traveling.  His girlfriend is a construction flagger in Soldotna who makes $45/hr.  Thats $600/day to stand with a stick in your hand.  The point is that Alaska pays its people very very well for work that is sometimes grueling, but worth it for some.  They bought me a couple shots at the bar and we chilled until I drove to a nearby Lake campsite. 

Waterfall in Seward

Resting Sea Otters 

Massive Jellyfish

37: From Soldtona I decided to fish the Russian River closer to the Kenai and found it to be too low and holding only rotting salmon carcasses, but I bet the Steelhead were further upstream.  Regardless, the Russian is another beautiful spot that branches off the large Kenai River.  I carried my shotgun and got a few weird looks, but I did see three other people with guns so it made sense.  I drove east and then south to Seward to get a taste of the other lowest driving point on the Kenai Peninsula.  


Seward is different from Homer.  The surrounding mountains are actually the Kenai Fjords that fall into the sea while some of the peaks are blanketed with glaciers.  I drove past the town of Seward, which is a small town catering to fishing and sailing.  Its, Bay, Ressurection Bay, lies at the mouth of the town and just fifteen minutes from the marina is where I spotted the pod of sea otters.  Unbeknownst to me, they were reposing on their backs in a mummy position: arms crossed and legs/webbed feet limp in the air.  I thought it was the coolest thing since about nine of the them were floating in the same manner occasionally re-wetting their stomachs and readjusting their balance.   


Back in town, I put an end to my frugal spout and ate out at a local Fish and Chips joint.  Japanese style beer battered Halibut is sensational; it is the best type of fish for a fish fry.  Then I walked around the marina for a while until a Northeasterly wind picked up and made it too cold to walk.  White caps began to overtake the bay and right before I went to bed I was blessed with seeing the moonrise over the top of the fjords.

Seward by night

38: On the way out of town I stopped at a state park to see a glacier that was the exit route for a group of explorers in the 1900s.  Exit Glacier, as it is properly called was incredibly large even though it has been receding for decades.  A mile hike took me to the toe of the glacier where I could hear the water trickling inside of it.  The most faint crack could be heard.  I learned that what causes the glacier to seem blue in color is that it is so dense that the only color on the color spectrum that is absorbed from sunlight is blue.  

Exit Glacier

More of Exit

Surrounding Scenery 

This glacier is huge, were talking up to 200 feet tall with crevasses up to 150 feet deep.  Fifty miles later, I came to another glacier, which I had to pay $20 to see up close, but so be it.  This one was much larger and I had the chance to literally walk on top of part of it.  These ice anomalies are insanely cool.  

Another glacier

I was walking on the glacier, see where the rock fit that I uplifted for a second. 

I then got fuel in a town where an inuit man had asked me where I was going.  He had just come from Glenallen, which is on my way to Tok and he said that there was about three inches of snow on the ground and to drive carefully!  I thanked him and within an hour I hit the beginning of a long night.  For 125 miles I drove thirty-five to forty mph in four-wheel drive during the night.  I could not turn around because it was forecasted to continue dumping snow and I did not want to stop driving because I had no idea how cold it was other than the fact that my windows were freezing from the inside.  Honestly, it was terrifying at times.  I kept an eye on my GPS with its view completely zoomed in so that I could anticipate the direction of the next bend in the road.  Over the next four hours I saw five cars during the entire time.  When I got to Tok I felt like a hero, but the gas teller said, "Good thing you made it seeing that I am from Texas!"  

I bought two 1/2 lb hot pockets and crashed at a campground.  I should probably mention that all of the campgrounds in the MIlepost have been shutdown for the winter.  They do not run water and the bathrooms are bolted shut, so when I say campground, I mean a place to park and sleep that is away from the highway. 

Not much of a turning radius

Another vehicle's rim artwork

39: Today, I woke up and crossed into Canada at about 10 AM with my eyes set on Haines, AK to catch the ferry to Juneau.  The driving was more of the same, an inch of snow capped on top of ice, but since the roads in Canada are worse than AK, the driving conditions were worse.  Within two hours, I hit the best roads since the Kenai Peninsula; they were perfectly salted and brand new, wreaking of new asphalt.  I drove by Klunae Lake and village, which were both equally stunning.  I then flew into Haines Junction where I saw a sign for showers!  I got gas, a free bag of ice, a hot shower (they charged twenty-five cents/minute, so I went with an eight minute shower), and a Husky Burger lunch at Glacier Inn.  The lady at the restaurant knew that there was a ferry today and told me that I had a two and a half hours to drive 150 miles.  So I hauled ass the whole way.  

At the border back into the US, I had no problems and zipped right into the ferry terminal.  By the way, its amazing how much the weather has changed in the last two days: it has gone from windy and fall-like weather, to damn cold and winter-like near Tok, to chilly summer rain near Haines.  I drove nearly 900 miles in two days and finally my form of transportation will now change for the better: boat.  

I showed up forty-five minutes before the scheduled departure and was number fifteen on the stand-by list given my tardiness, but somehow, I was the last car on the ferry.  I backed into the boat and had inches of room from the cars behind me and the water tight hatch in front.  The ferry is extremely large, holding nearly ninety cars in route to Juneau.  I wish the ride was during the day so I could see the whales and sea lions, but at least I made it on the ferry.  From here I write, in the computer room of this massive and EXPENSIVE ride.  

Kluane Lake

Ninilchick, Anchor, Homer, AK

Russian church and cemetery

Days 34-35

I left Kenai after having a great breakfast and while we ate, a moose and her calf walked through their backyard, to give you a sense of the remoteness.  I headed out about 11AM and thanked Dennis and Emilia again for their hospitality.  


That morning we learned that a fisherman who had been hiking up the Swanson River (not far from me) in search of Steelhead and Silvers was mauled by a Grizzly.  He had a shotgun, but must have spooked the bear because he barely survived.  The bear peeled back his scalp and caused extreme trauma to an arm and leg.  He was certainly a lucky man to survive and I learned the lesson to be extra obnoxious when I hike in Alaska.

Massive Volcano

I drove down to Ninilchik to fish the Ninilchik River and the mouth of Deep Creek.  Deep Creek was awesome because the river starts in the bay and when the tide is up it usually brings in loads of salmon.  Across the bay, I could see two massive volcanoes in the distance west of me.  I fished for a while during sunset, but no fish came through the mouth, plus the tide was going out, which meant that the fish were also way out in the bay.  The tide in Ninilchik is about twenty-five feet, which means that lots and lots of the beach is exposed on a daily basis making the town a haven for birds.  I made ravioli and called it a night.

Yesterday was one of the most amazing days in terms of fishing.  It seems like I say that a lot, but it was a day full of first timers.  I met a salty old fisherman who came to fish the same mouth as the tide was coming in around 10AM.  I wanted to talk to them and as soon as I asked what they were fishing for, the oldest guy said, "I would not be interested in fly fishing with them."  I said, "Excuse me!? Thats actually how I fish too."  I changed my plans and fished in the surf so that I could show them I knew what I was doing.  I know it was immature on my part, but how could they assume that I did not fly fish from my appearance?  There were no fish coming in that day and so I left and went down to Anchor Point to fish the Anchor River which is about thirty miles south of Ninilchik.

I strolled into the first fly shop I came to and met a nice Ohioan couple who were stocked with information.  I purchased a fourteen day out of state license, which is very expensive because I had a couple of close calls with fish and wildlife rangers before hand.  Darcy told me exactly where he thought the Silvers and Steelhead were and I tried about six spots for the rest of the day.  I ate two burritos and a danish for brunch.  Then the fishing got GOOD.

29" Steelhead

I came to a portion of the Anchor River that had a few cars parked next to it.  An old man told me that there were no Steelhead in the river, but lots of Dollies (He wasn't BS-ing me because he had a small 5wt rod in his hand).  "Nymphs were the way to fish it," he said.  Well, I wanted to try to fish for steelhead anyway so I tied on an egg-sucking leech pattern that I had tied myself and weighted it perfectly for about an eight foot, deep, and slow moving pool.  I had read that Steelhead are ever so delicate when they strike and to be cognizant of it otherwise you'll never catch them.  After a few casts into the pool, it seemed like the fly had skipped on the bottom, which is desirable, so that it looks like a real salmon egg.  My indicator scutted just a tad and I set the hook just to see and WAM.  I tightened up my drag because there were harsh and shallow bends of the river in both directions.  I never saw the fish until the last three minutes of fighting.  And when I did I almost lost it.  Mind you that I am constantly looking around me for bears because apparently when they hear a splashing fish they have associated it with a meal and have been known to snatch a fisherman's catch.  I had just caught my first Steelhead at a whopping 29".  I could not believe it for about a half hour.  The man who told me there were no Steelhead was watching around the bend and I held up my monster fish with pride.

I tried another section of the Anchor River north of where I was and was shocked by how shallow the river was in some places.  You would imagine that these fifteen pound fish need adequate depth to swim upstream, but two-to-three feet of water seemed just enough.  Up river and near a boulder I found a school of monster Silvers spawning and acting aggressively.  See, salmon come up the rivers after spending a lifetime in the sea and return to their original spawning beds to spawn and die.  Native trout feed on their eggs while steelhead (a type of sea-run rainbow) chase the salmon and eat their eggs and then their decomposing bodies.  I was lucky enough to find a deep pool and a perfect gravel bed where nearly twenty fish, all over ten pounds were spawning.  The males had a beautiful deep burgundy spawning color to them while the females were a dark grey.  I had no luck with a pink and red patterned fly and tried my largest chartreuse colored fly.  First cast, fish on.  I had hooked a 30" hooked jaw (male) Silver right at the top of his buttoned-nose.  I wish I had a scale to weigh it, but it must have been around twelve pounds.  The fight lasted approximately minutes, but I was nervous about the bears so I hiked back to the truck, made a few beautiful fish print stamps of his massive head and filleted him to begin my portable fish pantry.

Candy apple Silver Salmon. Notice where I hooked him: this fish was most likely nudging the fly aggressively but not necessarily eating it since I caught him on the top of his nose. 

Bear necessities

That evening I drove down to Homer, came over a hill and saw more bay side mountains and volcanoes!  I strolled into a campsite and parked near a large beach camping crew along the Homer Spit.  As I was cooking my fresh salmon catch, I few of the girls came up and invited me to their fire.  Their group of about eight people were road tripping from Anchorage after working for the summer for the train that connects Anchorage to Fairbanks.  They made thousands of dollars as cooks, servers, and tour salesmen and were originally from across the US.  Needless to say, I made some friends and kept warm with their "epic" fire.

View from Homer Spit

At sunrise, I got a better glimpse of the mountains, and for being the most southern point of the Peninsula that I could drive to, it was mightily hermoso and memorable.

Kenai Peninsula

Days 31-33 

I was hoping to see the Museum of History in Anchorage, but since I do not keep track with what day of the week it is, I found out at the door that it was Sunday.  Anyway, my drive from Anchorage to the Kenai Peninsula was gorgisimo.  Imagine snow covered (and in some spots, glacial coated) mountains on either side of the Chickaloon Bay along the infamous Cook Inlet.  In a small town called Portage, I could see glaciers to the Northeast, East and South of me with the arm of the bay to the West.  At Beluga Point, I did not see any whales, but in the mountains behind me was a herd of Dall Sheep about 300+ yards away.  Incredible.

Driving on Kenai Peninsula

I drove through Cooper Landing and got fishing FAQs on the area.  I camped at Kelly and Peterson Lakes, which is in the Kenai National Wildlife Refuge.  At sunset I was lucky enough to hear wolves howl; I could hear that they were communicating from miles apart like a call and response.  It was amazing especially since the lake echoed their calls.  I set up the one-man and fished Kelly Lake.  Although it took a while to figure out what was happening in the subsurface, I began to pound the Rainbows, sizes averaging 18" or larger.  I kept one for dinner, which I broiled with onions and tomato soup.

Muddy Cook Inlet 

Something important about life: Individuals are fully consumed by living a life that is pleasing and necessary to them.  For example, you get an education to improve your potential, you work to be self sufficient, and you plan vacations to enjoy yourself your entire life.  So I began thinking about myself and the trip and that it is possible to live a remarkably legendary life on your own, but if you do not share it with other people then good for you.  That is why its imperative for your personal growth to get to know, listen, learn from, and love other people, because if you are lucky to see the world its worth sharing with others.  Hope that makes sense, it just came to me as I ate dinner.

The next morning I fished the lake again, but with an intense cloud coverage above, the fishing had changed.  I had only one strike in three hours.  I packed my gear and tied flies all afternoon near the lake.  Then I headed to Watson Lake, which was about ten miles west of me off of the Sterling Highway on the Peninsula. It was the last day of moose hunting season, which I am thankful for because in Alaska, you are allowed to hunt with semi-automated rifles (the first time your hear 8-10 shots fired in a row at dark is a bit scary).  I fished Watson Lake, and only took one 17" rainbow in deep water, but it was another beautiful spot so I cannot complain.  That night, I had ravioli and a couple beers for dinner and planned to wake up early for a real day of fishing.

Thank you Bill and Nick for the pontoon it has been a perfect vessel.

I had initially planned to take a ferry to Kodiak Island to see the bears and find some Silver Salmon, but apparently its very costly to get there and the Silvers had begun to arrive yet.  Since I "saved" money by not going to Kodiak, I decided to splurge on a guided Kenai River float trip for a day.  The Kenai River is about seventy-five miles long and is separated into three sections: the lower, which comes in from the Cook Inlet and the middle and upper sections divided by Skilak and Kenai Lakes.  This means that the Rainbow trout of the lakes feed on salmon eggs and flesh after they spawn and die, which means that the Rainbow are very well fed and get HUGE.

Kelly Lake

Skilak Lake

24"er 

I floated with Mike, the guide, and three other more experienced salmon fishermen, who seemed to fish in Alaska quite a bit.  We motored from Skilak Lake into the mouth of the middle section of the river and within five casts, I matched my largest rainbow record at 24" and six pounds.  Due to the glacial run-offs, the lakes and rivers of the Kenai peninsula are teel blue and have wonderfully large gravel spawing beds for the salmon, which is an egg eating frenzy for the trout.  The guys told me, "Welcome to Alaska kid, a 24" first Kenai river fish is not bad."  The day turned into one of the best fishing days I have ever had.  I took nearly thirty fish, including Rainbows, Dolly Varden, Pink Salmon and Whitefish over eight hours.  The biggest fish of the day was a new personal best, which the guide considered an Alaskan trophy.  At 26" long, 15" around, and pushing ten lbs, I fought and landed a beautiful female rainbow.  I returned her of course, but what an experience!  She ran upstream about 150 yards, which took me well into my backing, and then ran at the boat another 100 yards within half a minute.  I was in awe for at least half an hour, missing fish from the same hole because I was so satisfied.

26" Beauty

"Welcome to Alaska"

That night I headed for the mouth of the Kenai river, which is on the coast, in hope of finding some silvers. After stopping at three other boat launch spots, which were covered in NO OVERNIGHT CAMPING signs, I came to Cunningham Park about 1/2 a mile from the mouth.  I met a couple who were fishing and talked them up.  Within minutes of meeting me and hearing that I was from Texas, they offered me home-smoked King Salmon, Black Bear jerky sticks, and a beer.  The King salmon was especially good seeing that it was cured in a Native manner.  And Bear! It was tasty.  We fished for a while together and after getting to know each other a little bit, they offered me a place to stay that night.  At first I was skeptical, as sure as they were of me, but Dennis and Emilia kept saying, "We'll take you in as long as you return the favor to someone else in the future."  God works in mysterious ways and it was like a reaffirming point to my previous lesson learned about life.

Dennis and Emilia own a commercial fishing business in Bristol Bay and for one month out of the year they work hard netting thousands of pounds of fish.  Maybe I will join them next season.  We had some beers and dinner, I enjoyed a hot shower and warm bed.  They made a large breakfast and I continued on.  The most I could do to thank them was print the head of a Silver Salmon that Emilia caught last night, which turned out beautifully (I could only stamp the head since the fish was about 30" long and much longer than my print paper).  I am always amazed by the kindness that people are capable of, what if more of us took a chance like that?

Denali

Denali

Days 28-30

I left the treehouse after a bagel and cream cheese breakfast and set out to Denali, after much anticipation.  But I dropped the ball big time since I showed up an hour after the last shuttle bus on the last day of the season.  See, you can only drive the first twenty miles, but the tour bus service closes in the "winter," which came on Sept 16.  I made the mistake of not looking up when the winter began.  No one could pull any strings for me even though I had driven up from Texas.  I was irate for hours, until the guy at the Wilderness Services building suggested I apply for a backcountry permit and watch an instructional/survival video.  I chose Slot 25 (a twenty-five square mile area) to camp in overnight along with my bear proof container.  Denali is an amazing park because there are no trails to hike, its all open tundra, so the stakes and wildlife viewing opportunities are higher. 

More Alaska weirdness. 

But my bad luck had not diminished: I was cooking Reindeer sausage for dinner with rice when I realized that I had left my down comforter at the hostel 125 miles away!  I thought about leaving it and buying a new sleeping bag, but I could not afford it.  Plus, I would need it overnighting in the park since the weather can change dramatically; some nights during the summer it has dropped down to -35 degrees (see when its really cold, I get inside my +25 degree mummy sleeping bag and then cacoon in the down comforter as well).  So I bit the bullet and drove back to get it, stayed another night in the treehouse with my roommate Larry and passed out.

North America's big one.

Yesterday, I woke up fairly early, washed my dishes, had eggs, and headed back out to Denali.  Along the way, I saw a hitch hiker who raised his hands in the air as I drove by, as if to say, "Come on, help me, its cold."  I felt sympathy for him, turned around and picked him up.  Jimmy, ended up being a nice change of pace for a the 100 mile stretch of the drive.  He told me some interesting things about Alaska, since he had moved up here to work from Baltimore.  Things like: in the jails of AK, you pay to serve your time, so whatever you do, Do Not wind up in jail.  That was the first thing he said that made my nervous.  Then he said, "EAT MOOSE, 4 MILLION WOLVES DO!"  Or that he supported Sarah Palin... But he was impressed by my trip and he told me to enjoy the wild, which is encouraging to hear.  I dropped him off near the park thinking it may have been a mistake to pick him up regarding my safety, but I let the Lord handle this one.  

I decided that it would be unsafe to go on the backcountry pack trip since its not recommended to do alone, but I thought I would go on a day hike anyway to enjoy the open tundra.  Well, with a day pack and loaded shutgun, I set off.  Within twenty minutes of hiking through dense thicket, I saw a huge, bail of hay-sized shadow.  I inched up closer and a female moose, sitting down, turned her head and adjusted her ears to hear me.  I should mention that a portion of Slot 25 is sectioned off as No Entry since there is a large conglomeration of moose that are in the rut (mating), which means that the bulls are aggressive and territorial.  Since I knew this, I started my hike about three miles west of that area, but the moose were everywhere.  Having known that more people are injured or killed by moose than bears in the US, I was cautious and slowly wakled to the left of her.  Within seconds, I heard a bull grunting and start trotting, although I could not see him.  I had my shotgun ready in case it was my time to go (I felt my bowels move no joke) and I think it false charged because I made sure he could hear me and in a slow and calm voice, I backed away.  I said, thats it, Denali, you win this time and headed back and out of the park.  

Denali/Mt. McKinley: I did get to see the big one from about sixty miles away, and since the skies were abnormally clear, I took lots of photos.  Its wild to think that it towers over 10,000 Ft peaks standing just over 20,000 ft.  It was an emotional moment because I was let down by my lack of planning and yet the mountain was just superbly immense.  I left, anxious to return and maybe one day to climb it.  I should also mention that some people fly out to see Denali and due to inclement weather never get to see it.  My Dad for example, only got to see the peak for fifteen minutes when he went a really really long time ago (just kidding haha). 

From there, I continued South to Anchorage and found some fishy creeks which had fish in them because I found my first two decomposing salmon carcasses.  I took a couple small grayling and then made Ramen noodles with a couple of eggs, repacked my car, and passed out. 

Willow Creek

More bear signs. 

Today, I drove through Willow and Wasilla (where Sarah Palin is from) and fished three unproductive rivers/river mouths.   I got in contact with a salty river guide named George who invited me to his place to show me some spots to fish on a map.   In a very caffeinated tone, he said, "Do you have a gun? Good, you'll need it because where Im suggesting you go is real bear country."  I get to the spot and were talking chest high brush, extreme fog, almost no casting space, and a narrow creek that held no fish.  An adrenaline rush wakes you up more quickly than any amount of coffee and it is also more addicting.  I learned that fishing for salmon is different than for trout.  Salmon are on the move to their original spawning beds, not caring about the water temprature, clarity, or what the weather is doing.  So when someone suggests where they think the fishing may be productive, they mean that they may be there because water that seems perfect to hold fish (like trout) may be temporarily barren.  Then I fished the mouth of two rivers and found LOTS of bear tracks.  I headed out after realizing that I know very little about salmon fishing.  Rivers are huge, the trout follow the salmon up stream, and the silt in the water makes it impossible to know where the fish are.  Hopefully my luck increases as steeply as this learning curve is.  

Mud crusted salmon. 

I got to Anchorage about 6:30 PM had a Chinese dinner and am staying at a Hostel while researching the rest of my route.  Other tasks include laundry and relaxing.  

Alcan Highway - Fairbanks, ALASKA

Caribou with broken antler.

Days 26-27
At Fort St. John, I got an oil change, which set me back a few hours, but was well worth it since there was a tremendous amount of fog on the road and the visibility was 50 yards max.  Then I set out on the most intense driving I have ever experienced.  Yes the Alcan Highway is incredibly long, wild, and scenic, but it has countless unmarked pot holes, and can be quite rough.  But I should  not complain since twenty years ago it was all gravel.  From Fort St. John to Fort Nelson to Watson Lake to Whitehorse is roughly 850 miles.  That was my route yesterday.  Today was Whitehorse to the US border and to Fairbanks, Alaska for another 600 miles.  AT LAST I could say I had made it to Alaska; a la Etta James.   One infuriating tid-bit is that I bought a monthly access plan so that my phone would work in Canada and it never worked past Grande Cache in Alberta.

Its tough to see, but this is a restaurant with a ceiling covered in 7,800 hats!

The road: Imagine openness, semi paved roads, a range from flatness to 11% grade, drives through parks and around lakes.  Some signs read WIND GUSTS, AVALANCHE COUNTRY, FIRST NATION (reservations), CHAIN on/removal stops, BREAK CHECKS, EMERGENCY RUN OFF SLOPES etc. Then there were loads of game signs, which were accurate.  I saw a black bear, about 8 meese (inside family joke), mountain goats, coyotes, foxes, owls, hawks, eagles, and even a pig.

How to: To drive on the Alcan successfully requires caution, but SPEED.  When there is open space you FLY.  For some of the drive I had to drive at night to gain time since I was told that bad weather was going to roll into Denali and potentially obscure the view tomorrow.  So I quickly learned that if I kept up behind an 18-Wheeler, which already drives quickly, that I would be protected from anything in the road and have extra illumination from their lights.

Me in my previous life

Alaska Border: I came back into the US and was not only proud (of myself and vehicle) to have made it, but grateful.  The roads were already better, I was no longer nervous about carrying the shotgun in Canada, and from here on out, weather permitting, I had a bunch of adventure in addition to the driving.  I came to Fairbanks about 6PM, with a clear view of Denali!  I cannot wait to see it up close tomorrow, God willing.  But Alaska is also a bit weird.

Moose eyes

Can you tell I am pleased?

I arrived to a "hostel" that was advertised in the Milepost (a guidebook/log of all mile posts throughout Alberta, BC, Yukon, and AK) and was shown my "room with strangers" room.  I follow the rude man beyond the Inn-like buildings into the back and hidden section of the parking lot.  Next to 3 rusting but functioning trailers was a tree with a ladder and a tree house in it.  I thought it was a play house, but from inside this tree house I am typing and going to sleep tonight.  Its nice you know, it blocks the wind, but there is no door knob (it is a nail that closes the door) and probably holds a lot of spiders! Anyway, me and a very unlucky man are staying tonight here before we write a claim lol.  It would definitely fail any and all hospitality/fire codes.  But even more strange was that the host showed me the lobby with living room and computer.  Sitting in front of the computer, and on Facebook, was a short, plump, Native American hooker, wearing fish nets, all black with unmistakable "hooker" boots.  She smiled at me.  I asked the host if he could recommend a local place to have dinner and he said McDonalds or Pizza Hut -- Golly!  I went with Pizza Hut and am now going to sleep.