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“A Yukon Fish Camp for Visitors” was published in the The New York Times, August 29, 1993.

“MY husband, Ralph, and I were on the banks of the Yukon Riv­er 1,500 miles from its source in Canada and 800 miles from its mouth at the Bering Sea. Surrounding us were hundreds of fish hang­ing on drying racks scattered through a thin grove of cottonwood trees. The filleted flesh lapped in waves along the fish spines and glowed in the sun with an erotic hue of orange-pink that could only be called salmon. The feel was leathery and plushy, like the footpad of an animal, and my fingertips came away glistening with oil. Through this ancient summer ritual of fish camp, the richness of salmon would help feed our host, Paul Ste­vens, his family, dogs and neighbors in the nearby Athabascan Indian town of Stevens Village through the frigid Alaskan winter. (Paul has since moved, for half the year, to the village of Venetie, north of Fort Yukon; his brother Willie will probably continue to work at the camp.)”