Alaskan Adventure. Pt. 1. It never stops raining.

I am not the first person, nor will I be the last person to take an Alaskan Adventure. This land of the north is considered a land that has yet to be fully conquered, a frontier of sorts, a land filled with huge bears and even huge-er bear stories. I have, in my 2 days that I have been in Alaska so far, have heard enough bear stories to last a life time. I kid you not, if I hear one more bear story I will maul the person telling it.

It is hard to write about personal experiences. People rarely find the personal day to day experiences of another human being to be interesting, but it isn’t all about how interesting an experience is. I am mostly writing so I can keep everything straight in my mind, and as an escape from the 16 hour work days that will soon engulf every aspect of my life.

I missed my first flight to Alaska. 5 minutes earlier and I would of made it. Curse the construction that delayed my drive to the airport. This started a headachey chain of events. Switched flight fees, waiting standbye, cramped seats, baggage switchover, another standbye, another cramped seat, and finally my destination. An interesting side note: I sat next to a lady on my first flight from Seattle to Anchorage, who graduated from Polson, Montana in 1978. It was a bumpy, short flight from Anchorage to King Salmon, then a bumpy drive from King Salmon to Naknek.

Naknek is my home for these next few months. A town made up of canneries, fish processing plants, a boat yard, a general store, a liquor store, and a post office. No phone service, and when I say no phone service I don’t mean phone service that is really bad most everywhere and good enough in some places to receive a text, I mean absolutely no cell phone reception. It is a good escape from the ever pervasive world of cellular devices that the rest of the world consists of. It is nice to be able to meet and talk to someone who doesn’t pull their phone out halfway through a conversation and give you only a part of their attention.

I haven’t seen a night here yet. It is light for about 21 hours a day. At ten at night it still feels like mid-day, it is quite the trip. Alaska is a beautiful place. People who have been to Alaska always say how beautiful it is here and coming from Montana I thought I knew what to expect. Flying into Anchorage was wonderful. The mountains up here dwarf the mountains back home. And then when we got to King Salmon it was an entirely different landscape; flat, short trees, and brush for as far as the eye could see. It was beautiful in a very different way than Anchorage, but equally beautiful.

Tomorrow we start working. Yesterday was orientation, rules, and a run through of all the different jobs in the processing plant. I get to work on the fillet line. Should be an interesting experience filleting salmon for 16 hours a day. Tomorrow will be difficult, the next day will probably be even more difficult, and the day after that even more so, then eventually it will get easier as my body becomes accustomed to the long hours and hard work, at least I can hope that my body will adapt or else this will be a long couple of months.

There are three of us crammed into a little tiny dorm style room. It would be a stretch to call this dorm style as a dorm would be considered luxury to what we are living in now. A nine foot by nine foot by eight foot box with a bunk bed and a twin. Thin walls and one outlet, a crooked door and a window that opens into a warehouse. I can’t complain that much though, it could be worse. It just adds to the Alaskan Experience. My two roommates are from Colorado and Utah, Spencer and Bryce. Good guys, makes life a little bit easier. Spencer still calls me Randy even though I have corrected him a few times, such is life. It could be worse.

I will try to write and update this blog a couple times a week, that is if a bear doesn’t maul me first. I wish you all a happy Wednesday and a good week.

Mom and Dad, if you are reading this could you please send me a plug strip, my two grey flannels, and a few more pairs of wool socks. Thanks. Candy would be nice too.

Song of the Day, Lige Newton — Whiskey Keeps Me Warm

This is a fantastic song by one of my friends, Riley Roberts. Whiskey Keeps Me Warm,” is from Riley’s most recent EP, Before Winter Comes Again. I interview Riley for another online publication and you can read that here if you are so interested.

East of the Atlantic

I live on a land cultivated by blood. If you are of European decent and live in North or South America then you have a responsibility to acknowledge and bear a portion of the guilt concerning the reality that you live on a land stolen from its first inhabitants.

“Now, slow down, Adam. Don’t be so hasty – I did nothing to the aboriginal people. I was born helplessly onto this land, and I treat every aboriginal person with respect.” You might say to yourself. I understand that it takes an enormous amount of empathy to be able to fully grasp this situation (that I might not even fully understand myself. Who does?), but is it adequate to simply say “I’m sorry for you, no person or group of people should have to go through that (assimilation)?” No. One must put themselves in the shoes of those aboriginal peoples that suffered and still suffer.

Roughly 150’0001 Canadian Aboriginal children from the year 18282, when the first residential school was opened, to 1996, when the last was closed, were forced, by the government, to leave their family homes and attend government-run Christian residential schools. All of these children faced the cruel process of having any element of their original upbringing beaten and lectured out of them. This, aside from the physical abuse experienced by many of these youths, is a horror in itself.

Imagine if your town/city/farm was invaded by an alien humanoid, let’s call them the Naeporue. The Naeporue found that the way you lived was inferior to their own. Your rulers are secretive and untrusting. You slaughter countless other animals for taste rather than survival. Your mating rituals are often marred by selfishness and insecurity. There’s plenty not to like! So the Naeporue decide to purify you and your fellow humans. To do this they construct large buildings on your land (which they seem to be making themselves comfortable on) where they send all of your children to be transformed into better beings. You’re not gonna go, you’re past any possibility of changing your inferior ways. And, hey, your kids are gonna be really “good” people now! They’ll be able to interact in this new world that the Naeporue have created, and maybe even be successful in it. Maybe with time your children will even forget who their parents are and how they used to live.

Imagine the trauma that those 150’000 Canadian Aboriginals experienced. Imagine the identity confusion they would have faced throughout the rest of their life. If I suffered from such confusion, confusion that I can’t even fathom, I would have probably experienced an enormous amount depression, which I might have satisfied with various unhealthy habits. Then what if I had children? Would my self-confusion bleed into their lives as well?

Many Native Canadians survived and prospered after being sent to residential schools, but probably many more suffered for the rest of their lives. This suffering, this identity confusion, may even be soaking the generations after them.

Does this explain suicide and alcoholism among native communities? No. But it may help us understand it. Maybe just a little bit.

What am I doing about these circumstances? How am I making it right? My European ancestors were probably part of the problem, anyways.

I’m bearing the shame as much as I can, and trying to empathize. Which I know I will ultimately never be able to accomplish. What is my reprimand worth? Almost nothing. Realizing the futility of these things may put me in somewhat of a better position. I don’t know if this problem of land theft can ever be settled without putting it all back into the hands of the native peoples.

Of course, I encourage you to consider your place in this matter, and that you try not to detach yourself from it; especially if you are of a European ethnic background.

Peace and love,

Adam Schmidt



Song of the Day, Brasco Noir x Campana — Bad Ritual


This music video dropped a few days ago and I have had it on repeat. Brasco’s flow is incredible and Campana is mind blowing. I have had the pleasure of meeting both of these homies. I see big things for them in the future. The music video was put together by one of my favorite producers, Tyler Dopps, who produces for Shelton Harris. This is a sick song. Become fans before being fans means you are a band wagon fan. You can download Brasco’s album, Bitter Sweat, here for free.



This sums up last night’s Super Bowl victory by the Seattle Seahawks better than I ever could.
I have been a Seahawks fan since I was born into a Seattle family way back in 1994. It is good to finally see them bring the Lombardi Trophy to the Emerald City

Originally posted on Lewis County Sports:



To fully explain how much this Super Bowl Championship means to some people, lets travel back in time to when I was in middle school and Pluto was still a planet. I had a friend by the name of Mike Miller who was a diehard Seahawks fan. It was puzzling because at that time teams like Denver, Dallas, Green Bay and oddly enough JACKSONVILLE were the toast of the league. The Seahawks hadn’t been to the playoffs since the late 1980s, the team almost moved to LA and Dennis Erickson was the coach. That’s right, the same guy that coached the 49ers to awfulness and has skipped out on a half dozen college teams.

Mike, always the optimist, told me “the Hawks are going to be good this year, they have Ricky Watters.” They didn’t make the playoffs. “We got Mike Holmgren, we’re going to be good.” They got…

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Love at a party?

This isn’t the first time I’ve walked away from a party feeling like this.  Now don’t get me wrong – amidst the drinking, the loud music, and the herd of party-goers – I’m usually having a good time at The Party. There aren’t many other places where I can find so much laughter and people so eager to enjoy themselves. What could be missing then?

As a Canadian nineteen-year-old, I’m fortunate to have the privilege of being able to enter drinking establishments here at home, so my perspective today is from within the club. I think my dilemma is relevant in a large portion of party situations though.

When I arrive at a party, my routine will go as following (with stints of chatting throw in at random):

  1. Find, or unpack, the alcohol and start drinking the alcohol. (If I’m at a club this means spending $40)
  2. Stand and wait for things to get sillier.
  3. Run around talking (or yelling) at/with people
  4. If there’s a dancing area, do the dancing!

Things start to get sticky in my conscience when I start to see people, who appear to have met that night, smooching (usually in step 3 or 4). By now my primal desires will start to kick in and I’m probably gonna be considering if the single-looking young ladies in my area would like to make-out or not. Unless there’s a significant emotive connection, I won’t usually do anything with anybody though, but this desire alone has created a fire fight between some of my important values.

“What’s wrong with doing something with another person when both parties are single and find it naturally invigorating?” I’ll find me asking myself initially. Even if I don’t know them, there’s nothing wrong happening per-se. Or is there? It’s important for me to establish a friendship with anybody I meet and click with, especially if I’m attracted to them. I gotta know what’s important to them, right?

The way men often objectify women in our society has sustained gender inequality, as well. And I really try not to be a part of that. Do you disagree? Go read some Andrea Dworking or Simone de Beauvoir.

The debate about whether it’s morally right or wrong to have sex without love is ongoing, and very relevant to our generation. Take a moment to consider it, and do some research. What is your personal answer to this question? and what is it you really want out of partying?

Have a good weekend everybody!

Much love,

Adam Schmidt