We were unsure if we would get flown in this morning. The fog hung on like a heavy blanket. As the day moved on the cloud bank wouldn’t move. The pilots of the float planes don’t fly with instruments. Everything is visually aided and without extended visibility flying isn’t an option. Finally, around 3 p.m. we go flown into camp. The scenery was nothing short of spectacular. I’ve never been to the wilderness of Alaska, but I can only imagine that this is similar to that.
Since there’s no hunting allowed on Sundays right now we took the rest of the day to make sure our bows were still sighted in accurately. After launching a few arrows, dad and I were assured the arrows are going to hit where we aim.
Our lodge mates for the week seem like nice people. We’re staying with a guy about my age named Brad. He’s from Connecticut. Dale and his wife Cindy are our other two lodge mates. They’re a little older than me. It looks like dad’s the oldest and I’m the youngest. I think we’ll have a good time with these folks. Dale and Cindy are from Pennsylvania down near Gettysburg.
