Planning: 2020: Road Trip to Alaska

Kazbegi, Caucasus Georgia. May 2012.

Pssst. Over here. I've got a plan for a road trip after I leave Tucson, but I don't want the Universe to get wind of it yet.
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You know how it likes to shake things up when mortals presume to think ahead.

But here 'tis: I want to do a reprise of a road trip to Alaska that I took with my daughter when she was 16. A l-o-n-g time ago. Wait, not that long ago. How old do you think I am, anyway?

I've got Plans A, B, C, and X for who might go with me. Plan C is I do it solo. Plan A includes one or two descendants. Plan B is a tried and tested travel partner with whom I've shared adventures and misadventures in the past. They are already acquainted with my quirks, both good and bad, as I am with theirs. Plan X represents an unknown variable for the trip.

This page is to collect places that might dot the route.



Alberta

Dinosaur Provincial Park. Dinosaur bones just laying around! My kinda place! A video teaser below:

I'm a little sheepish about my desire to go to this place, because mostly what attracts me is its name: Head-Smashed-In Buffalo Jump. But since it's a World Heritage Site, I can allege loftier motives. It's been on my some-day list for decades. Maybe this will the time.


Arctic Circle

My daughter and I flirted with the idea of going to the Arctic Circle on our road trip, but the time investment for the detour didn't fit well into the overall amount of time we had for our journey.

Maybe 2020 is the year to make it happen.

Arctic Circle. Source: Wikimedia.

Glimpse of the Next Place I Live?

It's too soon to be thinking about this in earnest - that probably won't begin til at least February - but I've been getting flashes of thoughts and the faintest of calls from some places:

• Stay in New Mexico a second year, but move to the western side of the state for a whole different vibe? 
• Puerto Rico? Why is that whispering to me? I don't know.
• Rwanda? This has been on the back burner for quite awhile.
• Some place where I can continue to have access to my car while it's still in decent shape? Which limits me to North America. Well, no, of course, I could, in theory, drive it down to the tip of South America if I so chose, but, I'm too wussy to do that. But it doesn't rule out a turn in Alaska and making up for the drive to the Arctic Circle that my daughter and I decided not to do on our Alaskan road trip way back when. 
• Other than NM (and maybe Alaska), there's not another U.S. location calling out to me today to invest a year of residence in. 

I'm curious if any of the above thoughts will still resonate in February.

Letters from Matt #6: Eagle River, Alaska: Birdsong and Wind

Letters From Matt are letters from my brother, Matt, from various of his domestic and international travels. The letters span decades, and I share them on Living Rootless at intervals, in no particular order. 

23 May 1984

Eagle River, Alaska

Dear family,

I have been driving now for a very, very long time. I feel as if I’ve almost driven around the world. Right now I’m a few miles west of Haines Junction, Yukon Territory. It’s very nice – right among the Kuane Mountain range; snow is in the high spots and in the creek and river bottom; pine trees abound.

The strangest experience is that of being alone for over a week. I took a hiker from Columbia to Kansas City and another from Kansas City to Denver. I had a beer with a gas station attendant in Deer Creek, Alberta, and the night before last I conversed all night with an Indian. So I’ve talked to no more than 5 or 6 people all week. There are no words to make a good description of what it’s like because it’s perfectly silent save bird songs and the wind. When you don’t have anyone to talk to, the mind activity is streamlined and accelerated. That doesn’t mean I’m getting any smarter, it just means I’m getting a short dose (temporary, of course) of craziness.

I know it shouldn’t have happened and wouldn’t have happened if I were keeping good records, but I’m not sure whether it’s Saturday or Sunday. Luckily, I’ll be able to find out next time I buy some gas. But what would happen if I were off the road and not near a gas station. It kind of makes me wonder just how long I would last.

With four exceptions, most of my experiences have been visual (I’ve got two rolls of film to prove that). I won’t bore you anymore with any of it, but I did at least want to get a letter off so you could know I’m still alive and that I’ll probably make it. I only have about 600 miles to go. I should be in Anchorage tomorrow evening (Sunday or Monday – maybe Tuesday, who knows).

Love,

Matt

P.S. Did you know that it doesn’t get dark here til after 11:00 p.m. and it gets light about 4:00 a.m.? It makes bedtime seem like an afternoon nap.