Ketchikan has come and gone, sandwiched between two glorious days of downwind sailing.
The town of Ketchikan has multiple personalities. On the one hand a cruise ship hub and on the other a working port for fishing and lumber. Constant floatplane traffic is coming and going. Alaskans appear to take floatplane travel for granted, like people in suburbs do their SUV's.
After running downwind for most of the day, we called the Ketchikan harbormaster on arrival and secured a slip assignment for two nights at Bar Harbor. The harbor rents out the slips of fishing boats that are out of port.
All the town was essentially within walking distance of the boat - and most importantly, showers, Safeway and laundromat.
Marta and Frederic treated the crew to a terrific seafood dinner at a nicer restaurant. The king salmon was incredible, the kind of salmon that melts in your mouth.
The following day it was time to get some exercise. Before leaving Seattle, I printed out route descriptions of various hikes along the way, including one for Ketchikan called the Deer Mountain Trail. It turned out to be an hour hike to get to the hike and even with a description it wasn't easy to find. At one point a woman called to me from a car: "Are you going to the dump?" I was clearly not dressed for a trip to the dump, wearing my sun hat and pack. She pointed me in the right direction, and I was relayed to another woman in her pajamas talking on her cell phone who finished the job of getting me there. The town is obviously used to corralling stray hikers.
The trail itself was remarkably similar to trails on the Olympic Peninsula: misty and wild with lots of skunk cabbage and moss covered trees. As I climbed up and up, I caught a brief glimpse of the town below, its cruise ships, marinas and floatplanes, before walking up into the clouds. Trees and shrubs quickly became sodden and the air, laden with moisture. The birds were overjoyed. I pressed on up, going four miles or so before turning around. It was a lovely hike.
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