My legs hurt. My calves hurt even more. Turns out that hiking 9 miles up and down a mountain was a bad idea. Even more stupid... we walked the dog another mile in the evening just to get him out of the house.
It was time to pack up our abode on wheels and point this thing back north. We left in the AM with intentions of hitting up Anchorage and doing some laundry. Just a hundred miles into our trip and I see a sign that points the opposite direction to Homer. Homer? I want to see Homer. We steer left instead of right and change our plan mid-day. It's just a small fishing village on the end of the peninsula. A little touristy... but not terrible. There are gift shops lining the end of the spit and more RV parks than you can shake a stick at.
We were smart enough to park the RV a few miles out of town for the night and drive the jeep. Down to the pier to snap some pictures and look for dinner.
Ah yes... dinner. The restaurants down here are going for $40 a plate. We are broke and have no income. A seafood market provided the means of substance for the night. Every once and a while we splurge. This self indulgence was in the form of fresh, never frozen alaskan sockeye salmon. Katie is a damn good cook so there is no reason for us to go out.
Hunkered down for the night we took in the view from our front yard. Life could be worse.