Day 9

Day 9 Lions and Tigers and GRIZZLIES, Oh my!

Today we started out in Tok and everything was wonderful because we are IN ALASKA. My mom said she could see better today. Obviously it’s because we’re in Alaska. I slept fabulously last night—better than I have this whole trip. Why? Because we’re in Alaska!

We. Are. In. Alaska.

I love everything about this place. I love the way the trees are such a vibrant dark green, the way the rain falls like a mist. We stopped at a creek earlier, in case the salmon were spawning even thought it’s a little early, so that John could see them. But alas, no salmon. It’s okay, though, because he got to see the creek and how clear the water is as it rushes over smooth river rocks.

Today, I saw something I’ve never seen before. We were all looking out the window (well, minus Josh who was napping and my mom who missed it) and we saw this mass of blondish/brown. After a second it finally registered in our brains that it was a grizzley! Nine years. Nine years I lived in Alaska and I NEVER saw a grizzly. I told John he must be a good luck charm because he’s seen almost every animal you could hope to see up here. The grizzly saw us and then whirled around and ran back into the woods. He was enormous and I was excited to see him, but I hope I never see one any closer than we were.

The drive today was only 328 miles, but it took all day because we took our time a little more than we did other days. We stopped for lunch in the booming metropolis of Glennallen and ate at the Caribou Inn. It was yummy! My dad got fried halibut (just like the night before…he’s into variety) and John and I got reindeer sausage. My mom got soup, which was good too, just not as unique to Alaska.

After lunch we drove and drove until we finally got into south central Alaska. I love the whole state (see gushing in paragraphs above), but south central is home. I know my home is currently in Georgia, and I do love the south too. But this is one of the places that I feel at home and comfortable instantly, even if I haven’t been back in a while—in this case, nine years.

The road followed the sides of the mountains and while it offered incredible views of the steely blue rivers rushing by below, it also provided some lets-hold-our-breath-and-hope-we-make-it moments, since the RV is big and the road was a little on the small side.

We got to Anchorage in time for dinner (food is a big theme of our vacations) and picked Alison and Chad up from the airport late, late, late.

And then the real vacation began.

Day 8

Day 8

We spent the night in Rancheria, Yukon Territory last night. Good news—I didn’t get eaten by any bears. We hit the road early and were hoping to hit the Alaska border by bedtime. Initially I had thought we might need to stop at Kluane Lake, since you can’t make as much milage on the Alaska Highway, but we thought we’d push it and see where we could go.

Just as we were about to leave the campground, I noticed that the camper sounded funny so my dad and John jumped out to check stuff under the hood. Turns out we needed more oil. Personally I was a little surprised that we hadn’t taken care of that before we left—until my mom pointed out to me that we’d driven almost four thousand miles since Georgia.

Once we left Rancheria we got to show John some glimpses of the ‘real’ Alaska Highway. A lot of the highway has been paved and some areas have even been ‘citified’ with things light streetlights. Not so with the road after Kluane Lake.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Kluane Lake was BEAUTIFUL. John has declared it his favorite lake. Personally, I would never be unfaithful to Mucho Lake that way, but it was impressive. First, the size of it is pretty unbelievable. We read something in the Milepost about how quickly storms can whip up on the lake. You can set out in a boat when it’s perfectly clear and get in the middle and face a vicious storm. John found an island in the middle of the lake and according him, that’s where he’s building his house. Note that I said his house. I’m not sure he’s willing to share his lake with anyone.

Just when we had started to get the teensiest bit disappointed that John was just going to have to believe our stories about how bad the Alcan used to be, we started to near the border. On a positive note, if anyone’s curious to what pergatory is like—I know now.

This road was BAD. And I mean, really bad. It doesn’t even deserve to be called a road, much less a highway. We were flying over bumps, tilting to the side at uneven sections of the road and slamming into potholes. And all that was when we knew the bad sections were coming and could slow down.

On a good note, the road eventually quit alternating between good sections and bad sections, which meant it was easier to be on guard. On a bad note—that meant the road was all bad.

In the middle of this desolate wilderness area with a road that would make the devil ask to go back to…*ahem* ‘Memphis’, it started to pour. REALLY pour. I didn’t even know it stormed in Canada! I had given up my weather checking obsession because I thought surely I wouldn’t have to worry about severe thunderstorms in the Yukon. But the dark blue, almost black, cloud in the distance started to make me wonder…

And then it started to rain. Or so we thought. After a minute we noticed it was exceptionally loud and bouncing off of the windshield almost like…hail. Sure enough, it was hailing! It only lasted for a few minutes, and we only saw a few flashes of lightning, but after we’d been driving for a while we saw hail piled up on the sides of the road. It looked almost like patches of snow, but I knew it was too warm for that. Turned out the hail must’ve bounced off the road and the landed in piles along side it.

At least now I know they do have bad storms in the Yukon too. You just don’t hear about it because no one’s there to see them.

After the storms let up a little we came to Beaver Creek, which is about twenty miles from the border. The Canadians have their customs office/border crossing here, so basically if you ever need to flee the US and not have the Canadians know you’re in their country for refuge, as long as you stay on that stretch of road, you’ll be safe. Take note fugitives. The sky had made it so dark outside by this point that I was just hoping we could all hold it together long enough to make it to the border.

The Port Alcan border is what a border station should look like. None of this four lane garbage like we saw when we came into Alberta. Nope, this was a teeny building with, as far as I could tell, one man working there. He welcomed us home and we kept driving the three miles that would take us to where we had semi-planned to stop.

The owner of the restaurant at said place told my mom when she walked in to do recon that the grill was off and we could have something fried or have a cold sandwich. Now, I know we’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto (or the South, as the case may be) but in my day, people were a lot more welcoming in Alaska than this guy was. So since my dad and John and I didn’t really want to stop anyway, we left his rudeness behind and pushed for Tok. After all, can you really drive the highway through Tok and not eat at Fast Eddy’s?

Fast Eddy’s has apparently been a tradition with my parents for quite a long time. I remember when we moved up here in 2000 and stopped at Fast Eddy’s to eat dinner and my parents explained that we always stopped there. It must have stuck in my brain, because eating dinner there last night just seemed right. AND yummy. It’s a good thing we’re going hiking a lot on this trip or we’d weigh the camper down so much we might not make it back over the rough patches of Canadian highway.

The Canadians seriously need to consider highway maintenance in the Yukon.

Eh?

"Get off the interstate, Ben Stone..."

Day 3

Alright, ten points if you can name that movie I quoted in the title. I’ll tell you tomorrow if you got it right.

They say nothing stays the same, that everything changes. Well, here I am, living proof that the saying is wrong. I have recanted in my false beliefs about Oklahoma. I’m pretty much in love with the Osage County area. Nebraska is gorgeous too, much more unique in its beauty than I thought it was. Notice what’s missing in that list?

Yep. Kansas. No offense, Kansas people, but I still don’t like it. Yes, there were some pretty parts of it, I can admit that. The breeze (um, gusting wind?) was nice at our RV park last night. But Kansas as a whole? At least, the part I saw? Yeah….I’m glad to be done with it.

The day started out a little on the sketchy side for me. Josh was asleep and I was hanging out with him so he wouldn’t roll off the bed, which means that I didn’t get a chance to have coffee. That’s right, I started the day today with no coffee. Which is why I was in a grumpy mood for the first little while. Well, that and Kansas.

When we crossed the Nebraska line I felt a little better. When we pulled off the interstate to get gas and discovered Valentino’s pizza? I was a LOT better. That was some of the most amazing pizza I’ve ever had. The tangy tomato sauce, the spicy pepperoni’s, warm crust and gooey cheese…Mmmmm.

We continued our “hey, we’re enjoying the trip” philosophy and decided to get off the interstate in…It’s not Ooompaloopa, Nebraska, but it sounds like it. Checking the map now…Ogalala. That’s it. Actually, I asked John, so if it’s not spelled right, it’s because I didn’t check. Don’t judge. I know I’m an English teacher, but it’s summer, okay? But even on the interstate we saw some pretty scenery. The Platte River (all five zillion crossings of it) was beautiful. Also, if you don’t know, Nebraska has some of the best rest stops in the country. Cute little kid playareas, nice buildings, shady picnic areas, and the two we’ve been to have been on rivers, which makes them scenic. So we stopped at a couple of those and it was nice. I’ve decided I may love the prarie after all. There’s something about the way the wind whooshes through the grass that instantly makes you relax and enjoy being outside in the big, wide open space. I may have changed my mind on the West as a whole. I’m a big fan.

We got of the interstate in that town whose name isn’t Ooompalooma and let me tell you, that was a good move. Since we’re in an RV, we can’t go that fast anyway, which means that on the backroads we don’t lose any speed, but we gain the uniqueness of the little towns and lose the stress of passing 18-wheelers. We saw Lake McConaghy, which was absolutely stunning. It was huge! Plus, everytime we saw it we were looking down through these cool canyon/ravine looking areas. I’m sure there’s a technical name for it, but I don’t know it. The land where we were looks rather flat, but every few minutes we would look to the right and see where it dropped off suddenly, sometimes closer to the road and sometimes out on the horizon.

We’re still in Nebraska now and I’m proud to tell you that I have seen parts of the Oregon Trail! I can’t tell you how many times I played that game as a kid and now I have seen Jailhouse Rock and Courthouse Rock (it looks like a courthouse! Can you even believe it?). AND Chimney Rock, which was obviously amazing. You can see it from much further away than I would have guessed and there was something so surreal about knowing that pioneers came this same way and endured hazards far worse than a lack of coffee (Don’t worry about me, by the way, I got some eventually). I love history, so I love knowing I’m seeing the same things as people did when they traveled this way as pioneers hundreds of years ago. It’s probably the writer in me, but I wonder what their stories were. What were they thinking when they saw Chimney Rock for the first time?

The goal tonight is to get to Guernsey, Wyoming. It’s just past Ft. Laramie, another Oregon Trail landmark. I was really looking forward to being in Wyoming, because I love the scenery there, but Nebraska is just as gorgeous (cannot believe I’m typing that!) so I’m in no hurry to leave, other than wanting to be closer to Alaska.

By the way, there was a definite chill in the air this morning! There’s no better smell in the world (except this smell in Alaska—it’s different, trust me) than a crisp morning. And since it’s supposed to be in the forties or fifties in Guernsey tonight, I am anticipating the opportunity to enjoy that feeling again tomorrow.

Alaska Adventure Day 2

DAY 2

So far I’m admitting to being wrong. We’re halfway (over halfway, actually) through our drive for the day. We’re STILL in Oklahoma. They make states bigger out west, I guess. Anyway, Oklahoma is GORGEOUS. What was I thinking? Oklahoma-ins, Okies, whatever you’d prefer to be called, I apologize profusely.

First, it’s less a plains state than an out-west state. More Texas than Kansas, if you will. So I’ve enjoyed the western feeling. There’s a certain way the wind swishes here that leaves an impression. Maybe that’s why the writers of “Oklahoma” felt the need to mention the wind in their opening song.

Speaking of songs, even though we’re all happier today than yesterday (I credit McDonalds and a hot lunch, personally) we’re a little tired still. Tired enough that everytime we come to a new city/town someone has a song for it and sings it. For example…

I’m proud to be an Okie from Muskogee.

Livin’ on Tulsa time.

Witchita lineman still on the line.

Or, when we entered a certain area “Cherokee people, Cherokee tribe. So proud to live, so proud to die…”

Amarillo by morning.

Okay, no, we didn’t go through Amarillo. But I had to contribute something, didn’t I? In good news, this whole experience has given me some insight on why my sister and I are unable to converse without song lyrics. It’s obviously hereditary.

We got caught in construction in Tulsa, which made the city name come very close to being banned from our vocabularies as a certain city was yesterday. We missed our turnoff to take the handy turnpike we wanted to take, but it turned out okay. We ended up on a two lane highway that took us through the illustrious town of Barnsdall, which on first glance might look unremarkable. BUT it’s the home of Anita Bryant (I don’t know who she is, but my parents thought it was cool) AND CLARK GABLE! Aka Rhett Butler! You’re going to have to take my word for it, but I cannot see him in this town. Especially—what—seventy or eight years ago? Longer ago than that? Because I’m thinking this town didn’t shrink over time. I think it’s as big as it’s ever been. And I can’t see Rhett being from there. But he is! And so that was super exciting.

With all the quoting that’s been going on and now this talka bout Rhett Butler, I’m sure you’re wondering if his famous line was brought up. Yes, it was quoted. At least, partially quoted. And it would have been wrong if it wasn’t quoted, it’s true.

So with all that excitement behind me, I settled in here at my computer to write down what I was thinking and seeing today to give anyone who’s interested an idea of what our trip has been like.

I’m happily writing away when my hubby decides I need to come see the “wide expanse” of view. I moved up to my front seat (aka the cooler between my dad and John) and we’re looking around, enjoying the view. My thought that this part of Oklahoma is very western is further cemented in my mind as I look at some buttes, creeks, stands of trees, and tall praire grass.

And this is where it starts to get interesting. For me. Noone else really cared, but let me be excited, okay?

We see this pack of horses. Or herd of horses. Whatever. And they’re soooo pretty. So we talk about how not many people keep large herds of horses anymore and I snap a couple pictures. John claims a dapple gray for himself. And I think as I take pictures “Hey, The Pioneer Woman has horses like this and takes gorgeous pictures fo them.” Of course, my pictures of these horses aren’t going to be nearly as good because I’m in a moving RV, but what can you do?

For those of you who don’t get my Pioneer Woman reference, by the way, you should look her up. She’s kind of a rancher’s wife extraordinaire. Homeschools her kids. Cooks. Takes pictures. Helps with the ranch. But she makes it all look so easy and fun. I’ve copied down lots of recipes from her website and they’ve all been delicious. Anyway, she’s written a couple books and I really love looking at her site when I get the time. Her name is Ree Drummond.

Back to our trip. So we see the horses. And we’re driving down the road looking at the endless “expanse” when we see a gate with a ranch title over it. And there it was.

Drummond Ranch.

Ahhhh! I saw the Pioneer Woman’s ranch! Not the house or anything, but the land itself! It was just cool, especially since as I said earlier, Oklahoma is kind of a big place. What in the world are the chances that we’d drive past her driveway? So fun.

Let me just say, Pioneer Woman was not exaggerating about living in the middle of nowhere. I decided that’s why she comes up with so many awesome recipes. You have to have variety in your food and when there’s nowhere within twenty miles (thirty, forty, fifty…) to go out to eat? Well, there you go.

And to sum up our feelings on Oklahoma, as stated so uniquely and eloquently by my dad. “Oklahoma’s okay.”

Nah, that song lyric quoting ( or misquoting) isn’t hereditary at all…

It was the best of times...it was the worst of times...

Alaska Blog

Day 1 (Written on Day 2—be thankful for the perspective a decent night’s sleep has given)

Whoever Dickens was writing about (that was Dickens, right? I’m slightly Dickens illiterate, which I blame on my college professors, who taught me no Dickens. Lots of Edith Wharton, though, and since I like her better, I’m fine with that—but I digress…lots) Let’s start over. Whoever Dickens was writing about had nothing on our first day of the Great Alaskan Adventure. There were highs…there were lows…But we made it though and we’re convinced it’s going to get easier as we get into a routine.

We left Forsyth at 5:13 in the morning. Note the fact that it is not an even number and you’ll know that we were a little later than we’d meant to be. Thirteen minutes (hmmm…a sign? Kidding…) late shouldn’t be a big deal, but I think it set the scene for day one.

The Georgia part of our drive was like the drive always is when you’re in your home state. You feel like you’ve been driving for hours, but in reality you’ve barely left. Which is part of the reason I took a nap in Georgia, in the bed in the back of the camper, which is apparently against the camper’s owner’s manual “rules”, but they’re really more like guidelines anyway, right?

Fast forward to Alabama. We saw some incredible tornado damage outside of Birmingham. I took a couple pictures, but the scenes I captured through the window really didn’t do it justice. It was just…incredible. Awesome, but not in a good way. We learned, or were reminded, really, that though we fondly refer to Alabama as “that trailer park west of Georgia”, it is a gorgeous state. At one point, desperate to express my feelings, I jotted down notes in my phone, since my computer was dead. “Alabama is pretty, especially when viewed through the panorama of a camper’s side window. And I feel like I’m on a train and I’m relaxed. The road noise I thought I would lose my sanity to this morning now serves as a comforting, even relaxing backdrop.”

Annnnd just for the record, Alabama has better roads than Mississippi. If you try to talk to me anytime in the next six months and I say “what?” eight times because I can’t hear you, blame the Mississippi road system. Forget all that pretty stuff about road noise being a “relaxing backdrop.” In Mississippi, it was just noise. They’re just patching up the patched spots at this point, as far as I can tell. If you live in Mississippi and have the chance to vote for better roads, specifically interstates? Please do it. I beg of you. Mississippi did have something going for it, though. Beautiful daisies all through the median and on the side of the road. They looked so carefree and happy. I adore daisies. They’re pretty much my favorite flower ever.

And then Tennessee. Which we were only in for…I don’t know, an hour an a half? Yeah, go ahead. Look at a map. I’ll wait.

That’s right. There’s no possible way the brief drive through Memphis should take an hour and a half, right?

Tell you what. Since we’re supposed to be relaxing and I can feel my blood pressure elevating as we speak, let’s not talk about Memphis anymore. In fact, let’s not ever talk about Memphis again ever. (If you live in Memphis…I’m sorry. No, really, you have my sympathies).

Arkansas was the same old state we moved away from nine years ago. I’ve never loved the drive from Memphis (ah! It was an accident. Really, no more talk of that word.) to Little Rock and while I’d like to tell you that yesterday my resolution to savor my surroundings and enjoy the beauty of the individual states made me relish this drive…it didn’t. Still boring.

We got to drive into Conway! I cannot believe how much that town has grown in the last decade. The only bad thing I could see about the growth is that my favorite custard place, the place I look forward to from hundreds of miles out, is now a Mexican restaurant. That was the bad news. The good news was that by the time we got there, I was really too tired to care much, as was everyone else.

We only drove another hour out of Conway to Lake Dardanelle State Park. The lake was gorgeous and it was fun to be camping even though we’re on a cartrip. I’m trying to convince myself to enjoy the journey and not just the destination (although I’m SUPER excited about Alaska), so we’ll see how that goes.

Last night we had four adults and one baby (toddler, I guess) in one 24 foot camper. It doesn’t sound cramped until you realize that two of the adults were in the bed over the cab, one of the adults was sharing the bed in the back with a very sleepy, very grumpy baby who did not want to sleep in that awful, evil, terrible contraption known as the “pack and play.” And one adult on the floor in a pile of cushions. You couldn’t have walked from one end of the camper to the other if you’d wanted to. Well, I guess you could have but you would have stepped on my hubby, and honestly I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have been a fan.

So today (day 2—more to come on that later) we’ve resolved to slow down a little on our pace, set reasonable expectations, like trying for 400 miles today instead of the 650+ from yesterday. We’re going to stop on occasion (food! Hurray!). And we’re going to enjoy the scenery.

Wish me luck on that last one. I’ve driven through Oklahoma and Kansas before…

Happy Monday!

It's so easy to be perky on a Monday when it's a holiday, don't you think?

I've had a marvelous day so far. I had yummy coffee, accomplished some decision making for the new house we're building, made fun plans for the day, decided to get my hair cut...AND the baby went down for the nap he so desperately needed. So that's good news.

All in all, I had a marvelous weekend too. I'm ready to get back to school and talk about Henry V and some exciting connections to modern day politics. Oh, it's going to be exciting. Think my juniors will think so? Hm...

I'm about to start reading Ronie Kendig's Digitalis, so I'm thinking maybe that will be next week's book. Everyone I know who has read it LOVED it, so I probably will too...

The baby is making noises, so I'm off. Enjoy your day off, if you have one, and if you don't...maybe look into a job change? =)