It’s 9:00 p.m. and the sun here is shining brightly. I think the sun is now setting here later than down south. I’m staying at the Aurora Inn, which is directly across the street from the Bering Sea. Imagine that. In my lifetime I’m lodging on the edge of the Bering Sea. If anyone had told me that I’d be doing this back in the days of wagon trains, I would have been incredulous.

Flying into Nome, a smooth flight and the most beautiful landscape I have ever seen. The Ocean below, a white tablet, interspersed with black swirls, and a dark blue background. Also visible, shards of bright white ice. The plane flew low – perhaps the pilot was also wanting to take in the view. Out the far window, the mountains were visible. The view reminded me of whipped egg whites. I swiveled my head, in an attempt to take it all in.

I always have, and always will, breathe a sigh of relief when landing, and this time was no exception. Perhaps this is because I cannot comprehend how it is that anything as heavy as a plane can stay aloft for such a long period of time.

Baggage retrieval wasn’t as bucolic an experience. The plane was full because the Nome Beltz high school basketball players were returning from the state tournament in Anchorage. I hadn’t, in planning this trip, thought about the fact that generally, people who go to Anchorage usually bring back a shitload of stuff. All I could think was that they’d all gone to Costco.

Pam M and I had arrived at the airport two hours prior to departure and checked in three suitcases. Pam H arrived an hour prior to departure and together, we checked in five more suitcases. The five suitcases were the last to be loaded – the plane had reached its maximum weight capacity, so one of our suitcases was put on standby. Grr, grr, grr.

Claiming our luggage was a feat unto itself. The Nome Airport is small, and the baggage retrieval area smaller still. There was no conveyor belt, just a conveyor type shoot. Everyone scrambled for their parcels. I stood off to the side because there was no standing room and was repeatedly told that I needed to stand in front of the barricade line. It didn’t resonate with me when the woman who made this known said that if I didn’t move, she’d lose her job. So we played this little game. She disappeared and I moved backwards, repeatedly. She reappeared and I moved forwards, repeatedly.

We finally claimed seven of our eight bags, and after making our way through the crowd, handed off six of our bags to Castin Lie, who teaches at the City of Anvil Academy, and who was hosting the BLBP Bookfair.

We shared cab space with two fellows who were on their way to Little Diomede, where they were to assist in building a water treatment plant. They were going there by helicopter. After being dropped off at the Aurora Inn, Pam H remarked that there was a bag of puke in the cab, to which I remarked, “welcome to Nome.”

Next: 83. 3/25/25: Dog is in the details