The Mountain Man and His Bridge: An Alaskan Love Story

This week I had the good fortune to accompany a man by the name of Jason Dean out to his project site at Nooya Lake to close it down for the season. He's one of those strong, silent, hairy guys with a love of hard work and an irrational fear of bears. We spent the night in the shelter that had been his home for the past four months, a three-sided, cedar-shingled affair constructed by the CCC back in the '30s. It's a funny place for a shelter because although there's a constant drone of flight seeing plane traffic, they're not allowed to drop people on shore due to some part of the Wilderness Act. Anyone who stays there has to hike a mile up from saltwater; Dean reported a total of three parties encountered over the duration of the summer.

The mornings at Nooya are almost always thick and gray, the fog crouching over the water until the sun gets high enough to burn it off. Spiderwebs turn into works of art under a coating of dew.

Morning mist over the lake's outlet, seen from the bridge.

The bridge itself is an impressive piece of engineering, all the more so because it was created solely by hand. Dean and his crew mates found the tree, cut it down, towed it over, and rigged pulleys to haul it into place with muscles and hand tools alone. I feel lucky I got to check it out.

The fog burning off Nooya Lake in the morning.

Flying out, and the view over the inlet to the lake.

Back over Revilla Island, remembering how different this place looks from the air.

It wouldn't be Ketchikan without the cruise ships. This one had two pools and a mini-golf course.

It's hard to believe that it's already September, and I've only got two weeks of gainful employment left. I can only hope you've enjoyed reading about my adventures as much as I've enjoyed writing about them. Life continues to be one heck of a ride.