Hitchhiking: The First
I flew into Anchorage on Friday, June 25th. I had a flight from Charlotte to Chicago to Anchorage. My flight was originally supposed to land in Anchorage at 9PM. After many delays, and much worrying on my part, my plane finally made it in at midnight. Lucky, because otherwise my plans may have been disrupted. Enough about that, let’s talk about Day 1.
My trip had two parts: a camping trip to Denali National Park for six days followed by six days in the town of Seward. Because I was camping in Denali, the first thing to get was cooking fuel for my camping stove and bear spray. My god, does bear spray cost a lot. $40 dollars for a relatively small canister. But better to have it and not need it, than need it than not have it, right? Who knows? After getting those supplies, my hitchhiking journey began.
The neat thing about Alaska is how few roads there are. With very few exceptions, there is only one highway to and from the larger destinations. Anchorage to Denali begins by taking Highway 1 north out of the city. This eventually turns into Highway 3 and leads all the way to Fairbanks with Denali being about three-quarters of the way to Fairbanks. Needless to say, I just needed someone to pick me up on Highway 1. I looked at a map and found the place to go: East 6th Avenue. From here, literally everyone leaving Anchorage will see me. Only one problem: there isn’t really any place for anyone to pull over quickly to stop and let me in. After setting my backpack down - thank goodness, it was at least 45 pounds - I let out my first ever hitchhiker thumb. Not to mention my cool, custom made, sharpie cardboard sign proudly displaying my destination. After literally 15 minutes, the blink of an eye in hitchhiker time, a lady named Christy picked me up. She was an Alaskan native who lived in Fairbanks.
As I mentioned before, this wasn’t the perfect spot to get picked up because there isn’t really a place for drivers to stop and pick up a rider, not to mention the three lanes of traffic. Anyway, Kristy turned around onto a perpendicular road and honked her horn at me. At last, my ride. I ran across the street to meet her. She told me to place my backpack into the backseat. Woah boy, was her car full. I asked if I could put it in the back of her Toyota Highlander instead. And with that we were off.
When I got in, she had her daughter on the speaker. She was letting her daughter know that she was picking up a hitchhiker. It would be a four-hour ride, and she wanted to be safe and have some company.
Christi was awesome. She grew up in Fairbanks and has lived in Alaska all her life. I asked her questions about living in Alaska. And man, do they live different. She told me about the fishing that she and her family do during the summer to prepare for the winter. They catch salmon and halibut, prepare them, and store them for the winter. It’s a much more rugged, independent life in Alaska. I also asked about their cars. Most people, especially above Anchorage, have their cars winterized to withstand the Alaskan cold. You’ll see many electric plugs hanging from the front hoods of cars. This is used to heat the batteries and keep the oil and other liquids from freezing overnight during the winter.
Enough about that though, Kristi was just a fun person to be around. She certainly had that independent nature. She was also pretty funny. (You might be wondering why her name keeps changing. Well, there’s a simple reason for that: I don’t know the spelling of her name, so eventually one of these will be right.) She knew Highway 3 like the back of her hand. She stopped at the last gas station before venturing further towards Denali. You don’t want to run out of gas on this road. While there are plenty of other cars on that two-lane road, you aren’t close to civilization out there. And, well, you certainly wouldn’t want to be stuck out there in the winter. People have gotten stranded and died. She told me of times when you see a broken-down car and you pull over just to let them sit in the warmth of your car while they wait on someone to pick them up. Dangerous indeed. In the winter especially, she told me that you typically call someone to let them know where you are driving and when you expect to arrive. That way if you haven’t shown up, someone can come look for you. It’s a different world out there.
When we were all filled up with gas and beginning to leave, a semi-truck pulled out in front of us. Christy raised a defiant fist and, in her distinct Alaskan voice, said, “Aww come on truck, darn you!” She wasn’t really mad though; it was just funny and gave us something to talk about. It took a while to pass this truck. You’ll see signs on the road that say things like, “Next passing lane 7 miles.” And when we finally got to the passing lane, I said to her, “Let’s show him what this Highlander is made of!” She punched it, the engine revved, and the truck was in our dust.
Kristy knew all about that road and the surrounding area. She pointed out the brown spruce trees among the forests of green spruce. These brown trees are totally dead due to a spruce beetle outbreak. It’s somewhat sad in areas because the forest is patchy and brown. She kept bringing it up when she’d see more forests being overtaken by the brown trees. At one point she said, “You can tell everyone about the crazy lady who kept talking about dead trees.”
It was a cloudy day, but she kept looking for the peak of Denali. She really wanted me to see it. At over 20,000 feet, it is the tallest mountain in North America. It is possible that Denali will peak out over the clouds, but, unfortunately, we never saw it on the drive.
A little while later she told me of a cool spot on the drive called Hurricane Gulch Bridge. It’s a bridge that spans, well, Hurricane Gulch. It’s a cool site to see. There is a parking lot on one side to get out and take pictures but we didn’t.
Further on the drive we could see spots of rain. The drive is fairly open, so you can see pretty far. She knew that I’d be camping, and kept prodding me about the rain. And, boy, did she keep reminding me. She said, “It’s not looking good for you, mister. Nope, not looking good.”
As we got closer and closer to Denali, she had a limerick to identify when we were close. She said, “Over the bridge, under the railroad tracks, around the bend, Riley Creek!” And well, we went over the bridge, under the railroad tracks, around the bend, and there we were at Riley Creek. This would be my campsite for the night.
She let me out at the campsite reservation building. She got a picture of me, and I got one with her.
This officially marked the beginning of my Alaskan adventure, and the first day that I would be craving a warm, clean shower.
Very interesting Can't wait to read more.
ReplyDeleteexcellent!
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