Alaska Is a State, But It’s Also a Place That Can Kill You

What the final frontier taught me about life and death

Walking with my father in Homer, Alaska. All photos courtesy of the author.

On the muddy banks of Bird Creek, I stood in houndstooth wellies like some kind of fashion-forward moron. My last full day of my first trip to Alaska, and I was salmon fishing. By “fishing” I mean I had placed a hook and bait in the water and was standing there while nothing…