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For two days, I was what Homer residents call a “spit rat”. I camped out on the spit of Homer. The spit is a sand Peninsula that juts out into the water with huge winds that rip everyone’s tents out of the ground and threatens to toss them into the water on the other side of the road. Therefore, I decided to keep my tent put away and sleep in the truck. But, I had to park somewhere where it didn’t specifically say, “no camping or long term parking”. Therefore, I had to park in the camping site area. I wasn’t really camping though, so I refused to pay $5 per night. Instead, I slept in fear that someone was going to come by and kick me out. Nobody ever did though.
Then, in one day, I drove all the way from Homer to Anchorage and kept going all the way East to the edge of the Wrangall St. Elias National Park. I found some poor sap sitting on his backpack with this thumb in the air. I knew that he must have been going to the park too. I gave him a ride to the campground that I was staying in. Again, I did not pay because I never pitched. I felt guilty though.
The next morning, I went to offer him a cup of coffee and he had disappeared. I found him a mile down the road with his thumb in the air again. We drove to the park together. The guy was a crazy and wild mountaineer and made me feel like a complete wimp. He also happened to best friends with the guy who had sat behind me when I did dragon boating in Gold Coast, Australia. They say its six degrees. I say it is far less.
Anyway, I wasn’t planning to head down the McCarthy Highway. I had been toying with the idea of parking and then hitching in. However, the Aussie hitchhiker that I had picked up talked me into it. So, I was headed down the worst highway in Alaska in a truck with no shocks and only one spare tire. The highway is an old railroad with potholes; washboard and railroad pins causing countless flats every day. Somehow I avoided them all though.
Once we got there, he disappeared into the 13.2 million acres immediately. I found a cabin for $20 that I got to myself. I asked around for a short hike. The shortest one offered was about 3 days. I was obviously over my head. I was dying to do a hike like that but I didn’t want to be alone. The people who had offered to be my hiking companions were too abrasive or smelly after only two hours and were sure to drive me insane in the wild for three days.
Soon, I came back down that road with my tail between my legs and drove and drove and drove. I drove all the way to Fairbanks in one day.
On the way there, I stopped to get gas the intersection on the Denali Highway and Highway 4 (I think it’s Richardson Hwy). As I pulled in, I noticed a young guy jump up from his pack, put in thumb in the air, and sit back down as I turned into the gas station. As I sat there, pumping gas I watched him and contemplated whether is would be a good idea or not. My, “what the hell” mind frame kicked in and as soon as he looked up I waved him over.
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He looked like a puppy that someone had just offered to play fetch with. I told him to toss his bag in the back and he asked if I had room for two in the back. I was really sketched out. I thought that I had made a really bad decision. I thought that he was asking if he could sleep in the back of the truck with me after having known me for two seconds. I told him that there wasn’t room. So, he looked a little sad and said, “alright, let me just go tell my mates.” and he began walking to the Denali Highway where I saw two more Aussies sitting on their backpacks. They had increased their chance of a ride by splitting up. Clever!
Once I realized that was the case, I called them over. I had three more along for the ride. Two sat in the back like dogs entertaining themselves with all the strange things that the old man had loaned me along with the truck rental. I was certainly glad to have them with me in Fairbanks because had I not been able to pretend that one was my boyfriend, God knows how much worse I would have been harassed.
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The very next day, the four of us drove to Denali National Park. Their company was like none that I could have ever asked for. Although I wouldn’t make a habit of picking up hitchhikers anywhere else in the States, I have no regrets whatsoever of doing so in Alaska. Together we hiked up a small mountain in Denali Park and amused the out of shape onlookers and we ran and rolled back down. We saw Mt. McKinley clearer than about 95% of all visitors to the park. But, we also had to resort to the buses for transportation and were stuck with a lot of people who were completely ignorant about their surroundings.
Finally I came back to Anchorage and got pulled over the second that I pulled into the city. My brake lights had stopped working. Neither turning signal was working and I had no tag on my license plate. The police man asked me for the papers and came back confused and checked the VIN numbers and all sorts of things but ended up shrugging and saying that he couldn’t figure it out. So, I turned in the truck to its true owner along with the remaining monies and headed home to Detroit.
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Looking out the plane window, tears formed in my eyes. I knew already that I would be coming back. I had a lot of things that I needed to do. This journey was just a test run. I had come to know a little bit about the beautiful people and astounding landscapes that made me cry in awe. However, I had not been able to partake in all the adventures she has to offer.
In the future, when my pockets are fuller and I have a companion, I will return. I hope that at that time, many more have come to see what a beautiful place it is and gained an appreciation without destroying it.
