The trip to Homer was a beautiful drive, misting off and on as we watched the tide recede over the mud pits near the coast. We finally completed our 3 hour trek and drove through town toward the “Homer Spit”, a long peninsula laced with fishing sheds, harbors, and the obligatory tourist shops that seemed to make up the full economy of Homer. However, upon reaching the tip of the spit we were quite disappointed with what we found.

Apparently, most of northern Alaska was on fire and the smoke had drifted down to obstruct our view of just about everything. No view of the ocean, no view of the range, and most disappointing, no sign of our anticipated view of Denali. We parked where the road ended and walked around for a few minutes, perhaps somehow hoping it would change our fortune. Eventually we just headed back to town in search of a good bookstore to see what we could uncover about this seemingly quaint town.

Homer is a very small town with a population of right around 4,000. The town seems to be known for it’s scenery (which we saw none of) and it’s halibut fishing (which we saw a lot of). In fact, reportedly Homer lands more halibut than any other port in North America. There are a number of local artists there as well and it’s not too hard to find galleries featuring their work. Homer is also the home of Alaska Wild Berry Products, where you can get locally made fudge, jellies, candy, smoked salmon and, of course, Alaskan souvenirs. Did I mention tourism is a big industry there?

One of the best things we did while planning our trip on the fly was to frequent bookstores in search of local guide books. The store we chose rewarded us with a list of 2-3 good restaurants in town, each of which we never would have known was there without the prompting from the books. We settled on a little house called “Café Cups”, recognized by the bright pink paintjob and oversized cups mounted on the roof. Upon first assessment, I questioned John’s decision as it looked more like a eclectic coffee shop than a source of fine seafood, but I gave in and was glad I did.

After a filling dinner, we were back on the road toward Seward. Aside from almost running out of gas (easy to do when the towns are 60 miles apart) and finally seeing our first moose on the side of the road, our odyssey to Homer ended in disappointment. As much talk as it received around Seward, we have yet to figure out what the big deal is. Nevertheless, in true NakedSky form we extracted an experience that once again opened our eyes to culture and beauty in the midst of unmet expectations.