We were initially going to start driving on July 3rd for Homer to celebrate the 4th of July but Darwin's, a local dive bar, was calling and everyone from work was going so we had to postpone our plans until the following day. For some reason my coworkers always order these shots called Duck Farts (Bailey's Irish Cream, whiskey and Kalhua) that go down WAYYYY too smooth. They really are delicious. Starting out with dinner and a beer at a local brewery and moving to Darwin's for Duck Farts, I knew this wasn't going to be good. The non-bear believer wouldn't stop buying shots! I had a beer, some more shots, another beer, some more shots, and who knows what else. By the end of the night I think I had something on the order of 10 Duck Farts, 2-3 beers, and one other type of shot that tasted like cinnamon. Needless to say I rode the porcelin bus that evening and was a weeee bit slow and fragile the following morning.
At about 9am on the 4th, I crawled into the van and we made our way to Whittier for a glacier cruise where we saw an orca, sea lions, sea otters, and a shit ton of glaciers, many of which that were calving into the water. The forecast called for rain but we had perfect weather.
After the cruise, we made our way to Homer. Leaving Whittier and approaching the main highway, I look to the North and see a stray dog, not much smaller than a pony, on the railroad tracks. He really could have been a horse. The mastiff stuck his nose up in the air trying to get a scent of which way to walk to find home. Looking up at the sky with a frown at the approaching rain, to Graham, to the dog, and then back to Graham, Graham says, "Oh no you don't..." But I did. I pulled over and walked towards the dog but he didn't want anything to do with me until I brought him some nut clusters. We became instant friends. "We can't take him to Homer with us," Graham said, "He'll never find his owner there." So I called the police, flagged down a forest service deputy, none of which could help us, so we lured him into the van with more nut clusters and drove to the nearest business, a wildlife conservation center. Walking into the gift shop, I ask if anyone has reported a missing pony/dog, "Is it a Mastiff? This guy has been trying driving up and down the highway for days trying to find him!" Alas, the dog (Bobo) was reunited with his family and I could rest better knowing that he wasn't stranded out in the rain along the highway all night.
Arriving in Homer around 11pm, we were driving down the Spit when we saw a group of people camping in a VW camper van along the spit. As we drove by, they jumped up and down waving us over so of course we had to stop.
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