Rick and Kathy go to the beach
Homer it turns out is pretty small, not nearly big enough to contain all those people that were on the road yesterday. It seems most are traveling a little further down the road to a place called Homer Spit, a narrow peninsula that juts out into the Kachemak Bay.
We decide to check it out even though it is raining and the wind is blowing hard enough to make Channel 4 news at home, but not here. People are out and about with gusto, toting fishing poles and coolers, setting up tents and parking RV's. We drive to the end of the road, turn around and head back toward Anchorage.
The trip back is not as congested, most people are going to Homer, not fleeing from it. Still cold, we take our time, trying to get pictures of the occasional moose. It seems that moose do not like my motorcycle. Maybe they're Harley aficionados, or it could be the bright LED headlight hurts their eyes. Of course, it could also be my Wal-Mart deer whistles attached to my bike. I could market that....Moose whistles.
Traveling north we spy quite a few campers along a beach campground. It's barely raining now so we turn off to go investigate. Kathy thinks this is the spot where she saw eagles yesterday. As we near the beach we see our national bird, or birds. Eagle paradise.
We hop off the bike and start taking pictures. A man is throwing a stick to a Chesapeake Bay Retriever, he walks over and suggest we take a road down the beach a bit to where the fish camp throws their fish carcasses. Lots of eagles and you can get closer he tells us. Sounds doable.
Off we go to the little road and stop at the top of a small hill. The road goes on down to the beach and looks like lots of vehicles have been in and out. I decide I can make it down with no problem and we won't have to walk as far. There is a lesson here, pay attention.
I proceed down the hill like a champ, standing on the pegs like I really know what I'm doing. Yes sir, looked good too ! But, the beach is not sand, more of a silt and pea gravel mix. Seems a little, uh, boggy. Oh well, we'll walk the rest of the way to take eagle pictures. Lots and lots of eagle pictures. Kathy is ecstatic with our being able to get so close to the majestic birds, even if it is starting to rain harder again.
After our fill of taking pictures of eagles we walk back to the bike, Kathy elects to walk back up the hill the same way she came down it. I start to turn the bike around and the back tire sinks to the axle. Hmm. So I lay the bike over and fill in the rut, now I have to pick the bike back up, which is no easy task with the load that is on it. Finally I get it up and start moving again, I make it a few feet and it sinks again. Repeat. A few more feet, repeat. I am exhausted, I try walking, pushing alongside the bike while I give it throttle. I smell clutch, I feel rain, and I'm sweating. Note to self, more cardio. I reach the foot of the hill, I'm spent. Then I hear an ATV.
Kathy has asked a guy on a four wheeler if he could go down and assist me. He does and helps me give the bike one final push up the hill to where there is solid ground, not sinking sand. (hum church hymn now)...
I think him profusely, pick up Kat and away we go, steam escaping from my jacket. Whew !
Back through Anchorage, and on we travel. We take the Old Palmer hwy by mistake and enjoy the ride immensely. A small two lane twisty highway that follows the Knik River. Finally we make Palmer, find a descent motel and crash for the night. It's been quite a day, but one I wouldn't trade for anything. Tomorrow, Valdez.
Pics for Day 21 Homer to Palmer
We decide to check it out even though it is raining and the wind is blowing hard enough to make Channel 4 news at home, but not here. People are out and about with gusto, toting fishing poles and coolers, setting up tents and parking RV's. We drive to the end of the road, turn around and head back toward Anchorage.
The trip back is not as congested, most people are going to Homer, not fleeing from it. Still cold, we take our time, trying to get pictures of the occasional moose. It seems that moose do not like my motorcycle. Maybe they're Harley aficionados, or it could be the bright LED headlight hurts their eyes. Of course, it could also be my Wal-Mart deer whistles attached to my bike. I could market that....Moose whistles.
Traveling north we spy quite a few campers along a beach campground. It's barely raining now so we turn off to go investigate. Kathy thinks this is the spot where she saw eagles yesterday. As we near the beach we see our national bird, or birds. Eagle paradise.
We hop off the bike and start taking pictures. A man is throwing a stick to a Chesapeake Bay Retriever, he walks over and suggest we take a road down the beach a bit to where the fish camp throws their fish carcasses. Lots of eagles and you can get closer he tells us. Sounds doable.
Off we go to the little road and stop at the top of a small hill. The road goes on down to the beach and looks like lots of vehicles have been in and out. I decide I can make it down with no problem and we won't have to walk as far. There is a lesson here, pay attention.
I proceed down the hill like a champ, standing on the pegs like I really know what I'm doing. Yes sir, looked good too ! But, the beach is not sand, more of a silt and pea gravel mix. Seems a little, uh, boggy. Oh well, we'll walk the rest of the way to take eagle pictures. Lots and lots of eagle pictures. Kathy is ecstatic with our being able to get so close to the majestic birds, even if it is starting to rain harder again.
After our fill of taking pictures of eagles we walk back to the bike, Kathy elects to walk back up the hill the same way she came down it. I start to turn the bike around and the back tire sinks to the axle. Hmm. So I lay the bike over and fill in the rut, now I have to pick the bike back up, which is no easy task with the load that is on it. Finally I get it up and start moving again, I make it a few feet and it sinks again. Repeat. A few more feet, repeat. I am exhausted, I try walking, pushing alongside the bike while I give it throttle. I smell clutch, I feel rain, and I'm sweating. Note to self, more cardio. I reach the foot of the hill, I'm spent. Then I hear an ATV.
Kathy has asked a guy on a four wheeler if he could go down and assist me. He does and helps me give the bike one final push up the hill to where there is solid ground, not sinking sand. (hum church hymn now)...
I think him profusely, pick up Kat and away we go, steam escaping from my jacket. Whew !
Back through Anchorage, and on we travel. We take the Old Palmer hwy by mistake and enjoy the ride immensely. A small two lane twisty highway that follows the Knik River. Finally we make Palmer, find a descent motel and crash for the night. It's been quite a day, but one I wouldn't trade for anything. Tomorrow, Valdez.
Pics for Day 21 Homer to Palmer
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