Last weekend, while sitting and writing on the Coastal Trail, Roommate got cruised by an Anchoragite. He works at the library.

When I told my co-worker, of whom I am increasingly fond, she said: "If he works in a library, he's either really cool or a serial killer."

That has GOT to be the quote of the summer. Unless you count the administrator who's been at my office for 20 years -- talking about her preference for criminal matters, even though our office only handles civil stuff: "Everyone likes a good crime." Indeed.

Double M arrives today from the fair city of Minneapolis. We're going down to the Kenai peninsula this weekend for a wildlife cruise, a hike on Harding Ice Field, and some campin' foolishness. The administrator said of my plans: watch out for the drunk people with shotguns.

Whoa.

And in talking with one of the attorneys today, who was deeply impressed by the fact I'd gone on the Dalton Highway (thanks, Ringleted One!), I realized that it's fairly common for Alaskans to tell people -- "hey, if I'm not in the office by 10 on Monday, you know what to do." (My co-intern assured me she'd call the state troopers if I didn't show up at work this past Tuesday.) The attorney's going on a rafting trip with his GF, and is nervous about bears -- there was an incident in the Interior this past weekend where an experienced outdoorsy couple, sleeping in their tents, got attacked and eaten by a brown bear. Highly unusual bear behavior, and probably a fluke, but it's got people nervous. Apparently, the camp was bear-proofed just like the books recommend.

So, uh, if I don't blog in on Tuesday or so, you, uh, know what to do, right?