Alaska: Day Two

"Travel.  Make memories. Have

adventures. Because I guarantee that when

you are 85 and on your death bed you

won't think about that flashy car you bought, or

the twenty pair of designer shoes you owned. But

you will think about the time you got lost in your favorite

city.  The nights spent falling in love under the stars and

all the beautiful people you met along the way.  You'll

think about the moments that made you feel truly alive. 

And at the very end, those memories will be the only

valuable possessions you own.

EKP 

 

There is something about waking up in a different, unfamiliar place.  It can be disorienting but it can also be exhilarating.   Those who know me know that I thrive on routine, but I also know changes are good for me on some level.  This week there will be a routine, but an unfamiliar routine and I am glad.  We walk to breakfast where we had dinner.  I find it amusing that they have two cinnamon rolls that are identical other than in size.  The smaller version is the Texas version.  The larger roll is the Alaska roll.  While I would dearly love to have either, I decide a somewhat healthier breakfast might be in order.  Today is a longer day, somewhere around eighty miles of riding and I have no idea of the climbing involved.  So I get a breakfast burrito that ends up being more than even my empty stomach can manage.  I hope it was considered an Alaska size burrito because anything larger would be obscene.  

 

The people riding are interesting.  Three of them did a long ride in countries I have only read about.  Two went as a couple with three other people, Mary Clair and Roger.  The other, Larry, went with a different group.  Of course, with the cats, and probably financially, this would be beyond me.  But it is fun to hear about their travels and to dream.  I am not sure  how long Larry took, but the others were gone nine weeks if I remember correctly.  

 

We mount our bikes to ride along the Nenana River on the Parks Highway.  As we ride, I find today's course to be relatively flat though there is one good downhill that causes me to giggle.  I am glad that I have dressed in layers, something Greg recommends but that I learned from winter riding in Kentuckiana.  The weather seems to be a bit more changeable here perhaps.  

 

The scenery is breathtaking, so different from home, that riding along busy roads does not seem quite as bothersome as it might otherwise.  I have never lived near mountains, but there is something about them that is captivating.  Maybe because I rarely see them, I can't get enough of them.  We also begin to see the birch, their bark so pristine while against the black which I am presuming may be from lost branches?  They stand so graceful and thin, like dancers.  We pull over for a bit to see the river and I notice groups going rafting.  I know that despite the cold water, I would dearly love to do this.  But that is, perhaps, for another time. 

 

 I am amazed at how strong I feel.  I am riding mostly alone as is my preference when I want to take note of my surroundings and not be distracted by talking.  We pull in at 49th State Brewing as they have a replica of the bus from "Into the Wild."  When I get to the bus, there are two children playing inside.  They giggle with delight when I ask if they need my ticket for me to enter.  I wonder if they know the story of the bus and its sadly deceased inhabitant and doubt it.  I remember Jon telling me that if the young man had traveled about a half of a mile away, there was a way to get across the river.  Greg says it his personal belief that depression played into the tragedy and perhaps he is right.  I "think" I remember watching the movie but I know I have not read the book.  I also find the cannabis sign amusing.  I think about how my home state is surrounded by state's where it is legal and is losing tax money daily.  

 

Larry missed the turn for the bus.  Originally I thought he just was not interested, but I later learned he just didn't notice the turn off.  The ride ends with me pace lining in with Rob and Larry.  It felt good to ride hard and I ended with a 15.3 average which I was quite happy with.  Then, when the others arrive, we head out in the van for our hotel outside of Fairbanks.  What a contrast to our secluded, rural cabins the previous night.  When I open the door to my room I find I have a suite with a living room, full kitchen, bedroom, and bath.  The bedroom alone is bigger than last night's cabin.   Dinner is at the motel.  While I find conversing quite draining at times, I am getting better at it with age, or I think I am.  I hope to sleep well as I know my body needs it to recover from the stress of the day, but I don't.  I suppose I don't need as much sleep as I did when I was younger, but I still feel better when I sleep more soundly.  Eventually I doze off, both my tablet and watch set with an early alarm.