Alaska – Day 4

We are driving north on Lutak Road, looking for the Chilkoot Lake State Recreation Site, which is about 10 miles away. With nothing else to do today before orientation for the Alsek River journey that starts tomorrow, we are free to take as long as possible on our 20-mile roundtrip adventure.

Big things are all around you, as that’s the nature of being in Alaska. That stuff is easy to see. To stop and check out the small stuff instead of remaining in constant jaw-dropping awe is the hard part.

And so we walk. We pull over and go check out some hundreds of feet of terrain on the off-chance we might find a bone of some sort or be witness to an eagle swooping down to grab a fish before flying off.

We might see the mountains again, and we might gaze upon the sea from the same spot at some time in the future; while those places may look nearly identical, these pieces of driftwood strewn about and the wildflowers will never be seen in just the same configuration ever again. I consider it likely that Caroline and I will have been the only humans ever to see just this spot.

This can’t be the first time I’ve wondered out loud about why it is particularly these scenes that are so captivating; I think it’s because we can share this as a group experience if more than one of us is here looking out at it. We can share our enthusiasm for how spectacular we agree it is as compared to looking at something where we have to direct other people’s interest to some tiny element that may only be obvious to us. The expediency of finding commonalities when we are uncertain about other people’s attention spans might be a factor, too.

I like green moss, and I cannot lie, but it’s the contrast between gray, blue, and the many shades of green that really draws me in.

We have reached the Chilkoot Lake State Recreation Site and will need a boat to go further, except we don’t happen to have a boat with us.

So we will look out from the shore and dream of the day we could set out in a raft and just float around aimlessly, watching the weather change.

Hello belted kingfisher, we worship before you the place you call home. We wish you a long life, finding an abundance of fish and tadpoles within these waters you watch over. I hope that we humans do not foul our environment because without you, the other creatures, the trees, moss, various plants, and elements, we might as well be on Mars.

Imagine immersing yourself in buffets with all of the generic foodstuffs you’ve grown up with, maybe there are slot machines, movies, TV, heated pools, and live entertainment. You are part of a cruise ship ecosystem, and then, in a minute, you and your drinking friends disembark at a random port, and like a herd of 1000 cattle, you wander into town ruminating on your lunch of burgers, fries, and margarita, looking for the perfect token that will prove to everyone back home that you went to Alaska on some wild adventure. From your heated cabin, you’ll have looked out at snow-capped mountains, seen whales swimming by, and maybe caught a glimpse of a bear. I suppose this is good enough as at least you left the comfort of home, or did you?

Tonight, we’ll pack our bags and leave a few things behind that are not needed on a river trip where we have to travel light. We’ll be meeting everyone else who’s on the journey with us and sharing our first meal together. I, for one, will have jittery nerves as getting on fast-moving ice-cold water through a wilderness is still a bit intimidating to me. But that’s exactly what we came for.

Alaska – Day 3

Flight to Haines, Alaska

The first part of today’s travel was on a commercial jet that took us an hour and a half down the coast of Alaska from Anchorage to Juneau. When I booked our connecting flight with Alaska Seaplanes, I was excited that we’d be taking off on the water and making a water landing. Imagine my disappointment when we recognized that they also operate planes that take off and land on good old ground. Oh well, maybe another trip we’ll make certain beforehand that we’ll be doing the plane-on-water-thing, but for now, we crawl into our tiny 8-passenger plane for the short 30-minute flight from Juneau to Haines, Alaska.

Flight to Haines, Alaska

Nothing like a hanging glacier peeking out of the clouds to quickly turn our frowns upside down. Seriously though, you saw the coastline in the photo above; there’s nothing to be disappointed with.

Flight to Haines, Alaska

The milky water is a glacial runoff, joining this arm of the Inside Passage.

Flight to Haines, Alaska

We didn’t spot any whales on our journey north, not that we were expecting to see them in the mountains, but right below us was ocean water, and when we weren’t looking at glaciers and forests, we were frantically scanning the water for cetaceans.

Flight to Haines, Alaska

The nice thing about a single-engine propeller-driven plane is that it flies kind of slowly. When I was looking through our photos at home, I thought for a second that this glacier and the image four photos down were not the same places, but on closer examination, it turns out they are the same.

Flight to Haines, Alaska

Then I had to do a double-take to realize that this and the photo two images up are not in the same place. The waterfalls and glaciers are just that abundant.

Flight to Haines, Alaska

Thin braids of water running over the landscape remind me of what we’ll be running over on the Alsek River soon.

Flight to Haines, Alaska

It’s been a delight lingering over the landscape and flying slow and low, allowing us to appreciate the sights. I am curious what this all looks like on a sunny day, but I’m impressed nonetheless.

Flight to Haines, Alaska

Look closely and you’ll notice the similarities with the image four photos above.

Flight to Haines, Alaska

A view from a plane we don’t often get to see, the runway straight ahead.

Caroline Wise in Haines, Alaska

We are in Haines a couple of days early to allow ourselves time to explore the area. After checking in to our small hotel and picking up the rental car that we’ll have for about 24 hours we headed over to the staging area and warehouse where our boatmen were preparing things for our river trip. The building is falling apart;  we looked into a couple of the abandoned rooms out of curiosity.

Chilkat State Park in Haines, Alaska

We didn’t need to drive far for our next adventure, and the nearby Chilkat State Park sounded appealing enough for us. While the park was only a couple of miles from our lodging, saving the hour and a half, it would have taken us to walk out and back offered us more time out on the trail.

Chilkat State Park in Haines, Alaska

We are on the Battery Point trail and moving along pretty slowly.

Chilkat State Park in Haines, Alaska

While we were in Alaska five years ago, running the Alsek River for the first time, we didn’t have much time to explore the surrounding areas. Being immersed in a glaciated river corridor has a special appeal, but so does the area outside of that.

Chilkat State Park in Haines, Alaska

No matter that we are in a state park, civilization as it is in Alaska hasn’t been successful in pushing wildlife to an extinction point near its towns like it has down the lower 48 and so I’m always on the alert for bears.

Chilkat State Park in Haines, Alaska

It’s great to wind down from the stress of normal life out in the middle of nowhere. By the way, it was just two weeks ago that I had to fire everyone in my company. Twenty-some people coming off the 4th of July long weekend were fired en masse because we ran out of money for the last time. This vacation was about the last thing I wanted to do, but we would have lost a ton of money canceling at the last minute as these kinds of adventures require that you cancel at least 90 days in advance. So here we are with my wounds still fresh. Being out here, though, I don’t want to dwell on that carnage and am trying to set my mind on spending time with my wife, friends, and myself. Enough said.

Chilkat State Park in Haines, Alaska

While we stop to smell the flowers, the butterflies stop to taste the flowers.

Chilkat State Park in Haines, Alaska

Even with overcast skies, it’s pretty out here and a beautiful contrast to the 110-degree temperatures we left behind in Phoenix, Arizona.

Caroline Wise in Haines, Alaska

We know from previous experience that cascades are typically safe to drink from. This one even had a pipe at its base, which suggested the other end was higher up, capturing the water before it got close to the road, so we had to stop and fill our bottle. I’m still astonished by the opportunity to drink “wild” water.

Side of the road in Haines, Alaska

We did not transition from drinking to eating, at least not these.

Side of the road in Haines, Alaska

Our lodging for the night is at the Halsingland Hotel, which had a special rate for everyone in our group; it’s also where we’ll all have dinner and an orientation meeting tomorrow. For now, we have nothing much to do but take in the sights and stand in awe that we are here.

Alaska – Day 2

The Knotty Shop in Salcha, Alaska

This photo shows the extent of the wildlife we would see today, including the head with antlers in the bottom of the photo, wrapped in duct tape. We were perplexed but didn’t ask questions as we didn’t want to suffer the same fate. If you ever find yourself in Salcha, Alaska, you should drop in at the Knotty Shop because it’s one of the few places you can visit.

On the Alaska Highway in Alaska

In any case, we weren’t up here to look at curios; we were here to collect a bit of the Alaska Highway into our bag of experiences. This is Birch Lake is apparently a popular spot to camp and fish.

On the Alaska Highway in Alaska

Driving along the Tanana River, we were stunned by the magnificence of so much open wildland. Where else are rivers allowed to roam free?

On the Alaska Highway in Alaska

Every direction is picture-perfect.

On the Alaska Highway in Alaska

While the scale of things is nearly incomprehensible. It is hard to believe that people live out here, but the occasional mailbox and school bus stop signs betray their existence.

On the Alaska Highway in Alaska

We’d like to know which mountain this is but have no easy way of finding out, so it’s just one more of those majestic giant snow-covered mountains that are found everywhere up here.

On the Richardson Highway in Alaska

While the Alaskan Pipeline is interesting as an engineering feat this is a bit of an eyesore dragged across the landscape. I suppose we should be happy that it’s navigable by animals.

On the Richardson Highway in Alaska

I believe we are now on the Richardson Highway heading towards Anchorage, and that’s the Delta River.

On the Richardson Highway in Alaska

There’s one thing missing out here: enough time to take it all in. With our need to be in Anchorage tonight to make a flight to Juneau before continuing to Haines tomorrow morning, we don’t have a lot of time to linger.

On the Richardson Highway in Alaska

Alaska is a place that demands one go slow, and with a heavy heart, we had to break those rules.

On the Richardson Highway in Alaska

But there’s always time for one more photo.

On the Richardson Highway in Alaska

And a glacier certainly demands the respect that we stop and admire its sleek lines slithering out of the mountains.

On the Richardson Highway in Alaska

It is summer, right?

On the Richardson Highway in Alaska

From here, we’ll make tracks for Anchorage, as it was getting late. Our dinner at Club Paris was not chosen with any culinary sensibility, but it was the cheesiest-looking eatery in a place where there are not many options. Another crap hotel, but that’s what you get when you’re being cheap and not wanting to spend more than $200 a night for a room.

Alaska – Day 1

Roads and rivers we've traveled in Alaska

Anchorage leaves a lot to be desired, and so does Fairbanks, but there’s big nature between the two, so those less-than-ideal realities will have to be endured. To be fair, their lackluster impression probably has more to do with our budget than with a totality of blanket statements that cast aspersions upon the aesthetics and services either of these cities have on offer. We did, after all, have an amazing dinner riverside in Fairbanks that will stand out as an enduring memory, but the lodgings offered for under $200 a night are deplorable. So, let’s move past these temporary stopovers and get on with why we are here.

We came up this far north for several reasons: one was because of Alaska, two, Denali, and three, to add to our map of America, more specifically, the map where we track which roads we’ve traveled throughout the United States. While we’d had a brief stay in Anchorage on our previous trip to Alaska, all we did was grab a rental car for a few hours to head in the general direction of Seward; we didn’t have time to see anything else. That trip was at the tail end of a rafting adventure that saw us rafting the Alsek River between Haines Junction and Yakutat, Alaska. This time, we are once again here to raft the Alsek, but we left Phoenix early to get a couple of days in some unexplored territory before we hit the river.

Caroline and John Wise at Denali National Park in Alaska

Because Anchorage is right on the coast, it turns out they get their fair share of cloud coverage. As we came in under clouds, so shall we go. Our drive out of town led us north on Highway 1 towards Denali National Park and Preserve, and with gray skies, there wasn’t much on the horizon for the first few hours of the drive.

Sometimes, the legends and myths surrounding a thing can make that thing much larger than it truly is, and with that magic of the unknown, dreams cascade in ways that no reality will ever compare to. Then again, reality sets into motion an entirely new sense of knowledge that replaces the fantasy with the experience that often has the effect of drawing us back in for return visits and creating the fertile ground for new dreams.

Denali National Park is one of those places whose scale and reputation come with some big expectations. First of all, it’s not as remote as our imaginations have already plotted on the map. From Anchorage, where we landed the day before, it’s a mere 237 miles to the park. Next, based on anecdotal stories, we approached this place with the idea that the crowds would be on par with Disneyland on Thanksgiving; fortunately for us, that was hardly the situation.

On the Roadside Trail in Danali National Park

Our first stop had to be at the visitor center, as a trip to a National Park wouldn’t be complete without Caroline working to get her Junior Ranger badge. While kids can get by doing an activity or two from the workbook, Caroline tries to answer every question and complete as many tasks as possible to at least show some serious effort. Seeing we didn’t have all day to spend in the park, she’d have to limit herself and chose the Sled Dog Demo. I didn’t come to Alaska to spend even one minute on a bus that could take us there, so we got on the Roadside Trail for the nearly two-mile hike to the kennels.

The forested trail is a nice introduction to the flora of the area, though the fauna was either in hiding or had already suffered the sixth great extinction. We made it to the kennel minutes before the demo with enough time to get a quick pull of water from the hose nearest to the dogs. As I was drinking from it I was wondering, did any of the dogs lift a leg on this thing?

Alaskan Huskies in Danali National Park during a demonstration of sledding, summer style.

These Alaskan Huskies are a beautiful, spirited breed of dogs with the pack instinct fully intact. They appear to love moving as a unit and dragging the wheeled training cart around the track that has been set up just for this purpose. The skilled handlers take pride in showing us visitors the working life of these dogs that we learn are most comfortable when chilling on a ten-degree-below-zero winter day.

Caroline snuggling up with one of the huskies in Danali National Park

With a ranger autograph in hand that proves Caroline attended a ranger-led program, we take the Rock Creek trail back to the visitor center, and at 2.9 miles long, we relish the idea of our creekside return. Turns out that the Rock Creek trail is not aptly named as there is no sight of the creek, though we do hear it twice on our hike back to the visitors center. Regarding that aforementioned extinction, we do learn it’s not complete yet as we pass a couple of squirrels and the shiny berry-infused scat of a bear.

Squirrel in the wilds of Alaska

Back at the Visitor Center, Caroline is ready for swearing-in, though we are reminded that it is a pledge to maintain a code of behavior and provide a good example of being a steward while visiting our public lands. Win of wins for being here today as Caroline is leaving with a commemorative centennial wood badge that sadly would be lost by the time we got back to Arizona.

Caroline Wise earning her Junior Ranger badge at Danali National Park in Alaska

One more thing to do before leaving is head up the road to Savage River, which, for this trip to Denali, will be the end of the road for us. Going beyond this point requires the visitor to sign up for a bus trip to one of several points along the 83-mile-long gravel road. The longest journey into the park takes 13 hours or about 12 hours we don’t have right now. Reaching the bridge over the not-so-Savage River, we have not yet gleaned a view of the mountain formerly known as Mt. McKinley, now known by its native name, Denali, and have every reason to come back at a future date to see more of this enormous park and preserve.

Savage River at Danali National Park in Alaska

Somewhere out there in the distance beyond the Savage River is the namesake of this park that we’ll hope to catch a glimpse of on a subsequent trip.

On the way to Fairbanks, Alaska

By the time we reach Fairbanks, we are hungry and head directly to the Pump House, which seems to be the most popular place in the area. Rightfully so, as it’s in a national historically registered building right on the Chena River, and the food is perfect, from the fresh seafood appetizer to the rhubarb cobbler. It is so perfect we will talk of the meal from the Pump House months from our fantastic meal.

Seafood tower at the Pump House in Fairbanks, Alaska

At 10:30 p.m., the sun is shining bright as though it were maybe 5:00 p.m. back home in Arizona; this is unsettling. It’s not even sunset, and everything is closed. Some people say it is the endless night of January that is disturbing, but for me here right now this, seemingly still early, part of the day demands that people should still be active doing normal daytime stuff. I think I might have the opposite issue with this long day if I were living here, as the long night would be perfect for long runs at making music, crafting, reading, and doing all the other stuff that requires hours of mindful focus for extended periods.

Sadly, our hotel is an abomination and lends a pallor to the entire idea of what Fairbanks is. The state of Alaska would be well served to create a board of standards of how quality and service are managed when a typical visitor, spending a couple of hundred dollars for a room, probably has an expectation that exceeds the type of room on offer that would cost $10 a night at a flophouse on Skid Row or anywhere else. I have to remind myself that we are not in Alaska for the accommodations but for the expansive nature and beauty that surrounds us outside of the city limits.

Last Day in Alaska

Caroline Wise at Oomingmak Shop in Anchorage, Alaska

It’s not always easy to know what’s important when it is so, and so it happened back in 2012 following a monumental experience that took us down the Alsek River out of the Yukon into British Columbia, and finally delivered us to Dry Bay, Alaska that all the important stuff was duly noted and extensively blogged about using near 30,000 words and just under 200 or so photos. Well, that was 11 years ago, and in looking back I realized that I neglected writing of our last, equally important day, of our first visit to this corner of the earth. Now in 2023, I’m going to try and repair that by including what I can about this day in the Anchorage, Alaska, area.

Had we done nothing else, Caroline required that we make a pilgrimage to the Oomingmak Co-Operative. This is possibly the only place on our entire planet where one can walk in and buy a handknit object created from a fiber known as qiviut, which comes from a rare northern creature called musk ox. The “Pack Ice” headband design Caroline is wearing will likely forever remain the most expensive small article of clothing she will ever buy at $130. And, as she reminds me, she chose the “discount option” because the yarn of this headband is 80% qiviut and 20% silk. No matter the expense, I’m certain Caroline will forever cherish this rarest of luxuries and how it will remain a part of her first experience in the wilds of Alaska.

Seward Highway thru the Chugach National Forest in Alaska

I’m barely into the narrative that accompanies these photos, but with the 21 images I’ve included here and then the realization that I only used about an average of a dozen photos per day in the original blog entries, I feel I need to return for further investigation of how I whittled nearly 5,500 photos down to the tiny number I shared. I do know a huge contributing factor to my possible lethargy in tackling more: I had just recently finished writing, editing, and publishing my seminal (and only) book titled Stay In The Magic about the Grand Canyon rafting adventure on which we had marked back at the end of 2010 prior to this Alaska trip and I’d had enough of venting my heart and mind. Looking at this railroad track, I’d like to try the corny, “That train has left the station,” but knowing me, I’ll revisit those directories of old photos and see if I might feel enticed to add a little something here and there.

Seward Highway thru the Chugach National Forest in Alaska

After two weeks in this environment, nothing had grown old. Every vista was spectacular and held an incredible amount of mystery as at best, we could only glimpse the tiniest of surface views regarding what the environment holds beyond the first glance.

Seward Highway thru the Chugach National Forest in Alaska

Our flight doesn’t depart until shortly after midnight, so we are driving somewhat aimlessly southeast until we know that we need to turn around.

Seward Highway thru the Chugach National Forest in Alaska

We are driving along the Knik Arm of the Cook Inlet, where the waters flowing out of Portage Lake head to the open sea.

Seward Highway thru the Chugach National Forest in Alaska

The telltale turquoise watercolor lets us know that a glacier is ahead.

Seward Highway thru the Chugach National Forest in Alaska

Oops, almost forgot to stop and smell the flowers, a lupine in this case.

Seward Highway thru the Chugach National Forest in Alaska

Looking across Portage Lake at a glaciated area. I don’t think this is part of the Portage Glacier.

Seward Highway thru the Chugach National Forest in Alaska

This was as close to Portage Glacier ice as we were going to get, the remnant of some broken-off ice that drifted across the lake.

Seward Highway thru the Chugach National Forest in Alaska

The road turned to the west, taking us past a bunch of lily ponds; if only we were present when the waters were still and reflected the surrounding mountains.

Kenai Peninsula in Alaska

This was the end of our exploration of the Seward Highway today. After reaching the Welcome to the Kenai Peninsula sign, we decided this should be the time to turn around, as reaching Seward or Homer was out of the question due to our limited time remaining in Alaska.

Caroline Wise at Turnagain Arm Pit on the Seward Highway in Alaska

Having a beer and BBQ at the Turnagain Arm BBQ in Indian, Alaska, on the Seward Highway because even if we had to stop for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and Kool-Aid, this would still be one of the greatest stops for dinner ever. Does the sunlight have you thinking I meant lunch? Well, it was 7:00 p.m. when this photo was taken.

Anchorage Coastal Wildlife Refuge in Alaska

We’ve stopped at the Potter Marsh area after spotting birds galore, and everyone knows that this is exactly the right number of birds to arrest our attention and force us from the car to inspect all of them.

Anchorage Coastal Wildlife Refuge in Alaska

Unless you live in Alaska or some other northern clime, I’m guessing it’s not every day one sees a great black-backed gull chick.

Anchorage Coastal Wildlife Refuge in Alaska

I’m calling it “Arctic Tern with Midnight Snack.”

Anchorage Coastal Wildlife Refuge in Alaska

I literally crawled on my belly, as monumental as it is, to approach this tern from a distance I would have never guessed possible.

Anchorage Coastal Wildlife Refuge in Alaska

From this point, until we reach the airport, I’ve not been able to identify the park we visited, but who cares? Just take a moment to enjoy the warm sunset (9:15 p.m.) light illuminating the grasses in the woods.

Anchorage Coastal Wildlife Refuge in Alaska

More flower-smelling time.

Anchorage Coastal Wildlife Refuge in Alaska

Do you know what they call a daisy in Alaska? Daisy.

Anchorage Coastal Wildlife Refuge in Alaska

And with this last late-day photo, we pointed the car towards the airport to catch our flight.

John Wise, Caroline Wise, and Daniel Billotte flying out of Alaska

We were seated and waiting for a couple of late arrivals, and as one of those stragglers was walking down the aisle, I nudged Caroline and told her that the guy approaching looked a lot like a guy we’d not seen in 5 or 10 years, Daniel Billotte. Of course, she said, “NO WAY!” So, as he started to pass us, I kind of blurted out Daniel under my breath, not directing exactly at him, but his head snapped; sure enough, it was Daniel. How on god’s green earth are we running into this guy on a midnight flight out of Alaska? I’d like to say stranger things have happened, and while this is up there in the unbelievable department, we’ve had our fair share of the No Way.

Rafting The Alsek – Canada To Alaska Day 14

Caroline and John Wise at the end of rafting the Alsek River running from the Yukon Territory, British Columbia, and Alaska to the Pacific Ocean

If you would like to read this story sequentially, starting with Day 1Click Here!

Chapped, worn, dirty, bitten, and on more than one occasion wet, cold, nervous, excited, and astonished. This is it, the last day on the Alsek River, a bittersweet moment. There’s an awkwardness to finding the vibe on a river trip, as there are new routines, new people, and an environment that stands large and new right before all of your senses. By the time this last day comes along, we have found our stride and are certainly not ready to leave. But we are near the end of the river, to go further would mean venturing into the Pacific Ocean, next stop, Russia, maybe China!

The forest carpet hangs dangling over the edge where the river has washed away the supporting soil below it. On the Alsek River in Alaska

Before we leave the river, we have one more set of rapids and a few miles to run; we savor every moment. Shortly before reaching our takeout, we pass these cut banks where the river, over time has encroached on the forest and has removed the supporting soil. Interestingly, though, we have an incredible opportunity to see just how plants are able to weave together the soil to create the glue that binds the forest floor into a cohesive unit. This is why there is so much risk of flooding and mudslides following a severe fire, especially on mountainsides. In some areas on the cut bank, trees continue to grow at odd angles, appearing as though they could fall into the river at any time, and yet the carpet of plants holds firm, and the trees live on.

Our pilot has arrived and is ready to whisk us to the town of Yakutat, Alaska

The flat gravel bank looms large as it becomes apparent that it would be where we are going to make our exit. The emotions of the moment rage but have to be contained as we have lots to do. We immediately start emptying the rafts of everything before we open the valves and start to deflate them. A local family arrives with trailers being pulled behind their all-terrain vehicles – known as quads. They help us load up our personal gear, and within an hour of landing, we are following a primitive trail through the woods to a landing strip. We don’t have to wait long before our bush pilot arrives in his small plane. Joining us on our flight out of Dry Bay, Alaska, today are a couple of guys whose original plans had been to backpack the Alsek but were foiled by the immensity of the Tweedsmuir glacier. Lucky for them, a passing helicopter took pity on their portage attempt and hauled them out. Security out here doesn’t seem to be much of an issue; there were no full-body scanners or even X-rays. In quick time, we were rumbling down the gravel runway and peeling away from the trees.

The Brabazon mountain range in the distance as we fly out of Dry Bay, Alaska on our way up the coast to Yakutat

We are flying parallel to the coast, heading north to Yakutat. In the distance, we can just make out the Brabazon Range. It is a solemn moment up here in the sky, watching the world we have known for the previous two weeks disappear. Lucky Shaun, though, has stayed back at Dry Bay; he will accompany the rafts on a different flight back to Haines Junction, where he will turn around and do this all over again with a different group. I dream of being a boatman in another life.

Like the ground that we will soon land on, reality comes crashing into view that our journey down the Alsek River is over.

In a few minutes, we’ll land in Yakutat. I have no interest in being in “Yak,” but it is where we must land to catch our next flight. We’ll stay overnight, as my original plans had been filled with the excitement that we would have one more day in the wild to allow us to acclimate to reality before reentering the alternative reality called urban life. Getting a hot shower also seemed like a great idea, but the foreignness of others and the weirdness of being in a hotel were all too overwhelming. Tomorrow morning, we will board a flight to Anchorage, where we’ll have the better part of the day exploring before leaving Alaska at midnight. The memories of where we just were are laden with emotion, life once again has taken a turn and connected me in ways to our Earth I never could have imagined prior to embarking on such an amazing journey.