Day 15-19: Anchorage, AK

I have learned many wonderful things in Alaska:

On Monday, Mason taught us to play frolf.

What’s frolf, you ask..? It’s short for Frisbee golf, and indeed similar to real golf, in that you attempt to throw a Frisbee from the tee into a chain bucket in as few tosses as possible. Each player carries different Frisbees: a driver, a midrange, and a putter. We began playing at 10pm, and the public course was pretty crowded. It never gets dark here. Tonight (Wednesday) we’re going to play again.

On Tuesday, I learned an even more righteous skill.

What could be cooler than frolf, you ask..? Perhaps breathing fire. 7-year-old Ian thought it was cool in Aladdin, and 23-year-old Ian thinks it’s awesome in Alaska. Mason explained the finer points of oral immolation, and before long we were spitting fireballs off his porch into the not-so-dark Alaska night. Paraffin accelerant wasn’t the most pleasant thing I’ve put in my mouth on this trip, but I can’t wait to bring this particular party trick down to Griot’s place in Seattle. Madison demurred, deciding that he didn’t need to spit hot fire. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why anyone wouldn’t want to learn this incredibly awesome skill. He noted that he did occasionally ride the crazyness train. I couldn’t decide whether I was the conductor or the engineer.

On Wednesday, the fun continued.

What could be more badass than breathing fire, you ask..? How about shooting an AK-47. After a firearms orientation session for Madbus and a bit of brush-up for me, we packed up Mason’s arsenal and headed down to the local shooting range. We warmed up with a .22 Browning Buckmark, an accurate small-caliber pistol that didn’t kick much. Mason ripped off a tight grouping, and I was almost able to match him. After a few dozen rounds we stepped up to the big boy leagues with a .38 Special revolver, two 9mm handguns (a Kahr and an XD9) and a .45 caliber 1911. I wore a t-shirt that had been a birthday present from Kerri- “For every animal you don’t eat, I’m going to eat three,” it proclaims, with a picture of a koala, a toucan, and a monkey sitting in a soup pot. We spent a good hour blowing holes in paper plates before switching to the heavy artillery: Mason’s Romanian-built AK-47.

I’ll quote Nicholas Cage from the film Lord of War. A finer description of the AK-47 cannot be found: “It’s the world most popular assault rifle. A weapon all fighters love, an elegant and simple 9-pound amalgamation of forged steel and plywood. It doesn’t break, jam, or overheat. It will shoot whether it’s covered in mud or filled with sand. It’s so simple a child can use it, and they do. The Soviets put the gun on a coin; Mozambique put it on their flag. Since the end of the cold war, the Kalashnikov has been the Russian people’s greatest export. Then comes vodka.” Many of our enemies in Iraq and Afghanistan favor the weapon, and I was pleased to find that it was not particularly accurate.

Lest you think we haven’t been doing anything wholesome, yesterday we climbed Flat Top Mountain with Mason, Isaac, and Marilynn. It was a 6 mile round-trip hike, with the last 20 minutes characterized by relatively serious scrambling (that’s the middle-ground between hiking and climbing. You need your hands, but it’s not completely vertical). It was cloudy, but spectacular nonetheless. You can see the entire city of Anchorage from the top, so we’ll almost certainly climb it again when the weather breaks.

Very rare top sirloin, mashed potatoes, and garlic bread made an excellent dinner. We’re stepping out to play more Frisbee golf right now. “This is the way I love showing up to frolf,” noted Mason, “Half drunk and reeking of gun cleaning solvent.” “Wait a minute,” said his younger brother Isaac, “That’s how you like to show up for everything.”

Tomorrow we’re heading down to Homer, AK to spend a night or two camping on the Kenai Peninsula.