The trip was surreal. I felt I was in a dream or a player on a stage. The four of us, Scott, Jay, Joe and I, crammed into the tiny plane full of excitement, anticipation, and fishing poles. This was a trip I'd been hoping for but wasn't sure would happen. We were headed to a native village to meet Scott's Athabascan friends and fish.
I don't feel it would be appropriate to relate the details of the day in a blog. We were guests, after all, and I want to be respectful of that. I would extend the same courtesy to you if you had me over (and some of you need to have me over in August so start planning).
I will say our native hosts were very hospitable and excellent cooks. (They were watching Rachel Ray on TV. That should shatter some stereotypes). I hope, hope, hope I get invited back.
As for the fishing, we only caught one salmon that we could keep and eat. I tried to show them how it's done, but they were too proud to listen to this white woman.