Monday

This morning I could definitely feel one effect of living in Alaska for the past year.  Having seen so little sunshine, I very much enjoyed cooking breakfast on the tailgate of the truck in those yellow rays of happiness.  That said, it took about five minutes of that happiness to decide that, at 63 degrees, I was going to have to change into shorts before were were on our way.  I also decided two days in a row of dry shampoo was more than my scalp really cared for.  Since living in a fly-in village encourages hoarding, I had lots of empty orange juice bottles that I had filled with water for the trip but didn't think to bring a tub of any kind to hold that water so that I could wash anything.  I did have a shoebox and a trash bag and they worked just as well.

With only three hours of sleep Friday, I slept a good portion of the first day and I guess I slept through most of the scary places I remember from last summer.  We are no longer on the ALCAN and I've not seen half of the places that encourage getting one's heart right with Jesus.  While the roads are rough and filled with death traps, distances between any sign of human kind are vast, and prices are high (we paid $8 a gallon for fuel - I don't know what fuel prices are like back home, but we won't be complaining) there are some things about it I'll miss.  Miles without man also means miles of untouched and unmessed with nature to enjoy.  The roads may be rougher and only have two lanes, but they also have less traffic.  You can go for many many miles before seeing another vehicle.  Living in the village has made me an impatient driver and I'm missing not having to wait on other cars to do what I want and not getting stuck behind the world's slowest drivers.  Mostly, though, I'm missing the road stops.  They are pretty frequently found along the ALCAN and all come fully equipped with trash bins and bathrooms.  Now they come much less frequently and rarely seem to have a bathroom.  This is very high on the priority list when sleeping in a trailer on the side of the road.  It's interesting how one's circumstances can change what's important.  Happiness is having my honey beside me (that never changes), a place to do my business that does not involve bushes, and a shoe box to shampoo my head in.