Alaska (part one of many)

I almost don't know where to begin.

Ever since I was a little boy, I've dreamed of Alaska. I read Jack London's books feverishly, hanging on the descriptions of the landscape and painting the muddy, icy, snow swept landscape in my mind, fueled by photographs I saw in books and magazines. On trips to the library with my mother, brother and sister, I would stare at these majestic landscapes of mountains and sea, burning them into my mind. Somewhere along the way, I decided I wanted to move there, to be there to take it all in, for myself, in person. I also dreamed of working on a fishing boat in the Alaskan waters (never mind that I hated touching fish at all) earning almost enough money to live on for the rest of the year. This closely resembled my desire to go to Ireland and work as a fisherman as well.

Since my early twenties, I have wanted to leave Pittsburgh--this city that years later I have grown to love and appreciate. Over the past few years I have made half-assed attempts to find employment elsewhere, mostly in the outdoor or environmental fields. I have always stopped short due to fear. Fear of the unknown and leaving a semi-comfortable, yet unfulfilled and longing life for something that I was not sure of.

Last year, at twenty-eight years of age, I went skiing for the first time ever, and started snowboarding. I had tried snowboarding many years earlier, in high school, but since I couldn't pick it up right away, most of the people I went with on a few trips had been doing it since they were in diapers, and my family did not have the money to allow me to do such things regularly, I didn't pursue it any further. This excursion in my late twenties opened up my eyes and gave me light to see that I was not too old to try new things. I love skiing and snowboarding and I know I will be out every chance that I get this season.

The revalation that skiing and snowboarding brought me, along with my drive to get out of Pittsburgh, and my desire for nearly two decades to fish in Alaska, has brought me just to that exact point.

I am applying to a job in Alaska to work as a fisherman.

I am hoping that the other skills that I possess (wilderness first aid and carpentry, specifically) will also be of service in helping me to land a job. I am frightened and cautious. Good money is not guaranteed, by any means. It could be a crap season or the market prices could be pathetic and meager. The first step if for me to apply. I might not even get the job. But I need to apply. Thinking about moving to Alaska stirs up something deep within me that cannot be ignored. So many other times in looking for jobs I was excited but stopped just short of applying due to fear. I cannot do that here; not out of determination, but out of obedience to the stirrings in my soul. a job is not even guaranteed, but I will need to apply before I give up, unlike so many times before.

In all my soul stirrings and romanticizing of a personal Alaskan fishing adventure, I am fully aware that for as much as I am trying to run TO something, I am also trying to run away. The 'running away' part is not fully solidified in my head as of yet, and it may never be, but I know that it is due to feeling stagnant, needing an escape and adventure away from an otherwise semi-predictable path, and the result of failed relationships that still weigh heavily on my heart, mind, and soul. I would be remiss to brush this reality off or to try to hide it, so I will not.

As I apply to the job and pursue it further, I am sure I will write more about it. IF you are interested in what will transpire, stay tuned