August

With only days left in this great Alaska adventure it was time to explore somewhere I hadn't yet seen. Being on crutches limits the amount of creativity available in planning. Lisa and I were also in the mood to get out of the Denali area. Living on a lone highway in Alaska can feel a bit isolating at times. We'd heard about a town called Talkeetna 170 miles south that friends had talked of favorably. With no car and the necessary frugality required on a polisher's salary, we decided we would hitchhike. Managing to pack almost everything we would need for a couple days of camping into one pack we were off. I crutched up the hill towards the highway with my pack, Lisa by my side, and sun on our shoulders. What a beautiful day it was.

Our trip began quite well with a game of throwing rocks at a stop sign. With our entertainment and the best weather in weeks we weren't concerned with getting a ride immediately. And even with my crutches as a guilt trip we waited a half hour or so for the first car to stop. We climbed into the back of a very comfortable new rental car being driven by a friendly couple. Things just kept getting better. We started south with the typical introductory conversation. Apparently, they had passed by and decided to turn around to fetch us. After only a moment the conversations were rolling. At times when hitchhiking the driver has little desire to talk, this was not the case with Helen, the wife of the driver Larry. And they were great. To make things even better, they were headed to Talkeetna, to a brewery. Wow, things just couldn't be better.

Larry and Helen were on a trip to Alaska to visit their son who is working at an organic farm in Ethel, Alaska. It sounded like a fun prospect. His accommodations at the farm were primitive with nothing but an open air lodge. Farm workers collected crops and stored them in exchange for food, a place to sleep, and a small stipend. It sounded great to me. Larry and Helen were entertaining making the 170 miles fly by. We arrived in Talkeetna to see a bustling main street. The festive mood made a beer very appealing. We went directly to the brewery where we bought a pitcher of their IPA and sweet potato fries. It was delicious. After some more talk, food, and beer we made our way to the brew house for some samples. Larry and Helen bought us some testers and we were having a great time. When it came time for our company to leave we were sad. They headed south to Anchorage for the night and Lis and I were left in Talkeetna to search for the next adventure.

Talkeetna has a typical Alaskan vibe with planes taking off and landing on the grass runway in town, ATV's with dogs atop, residents with knives on th

eir belts, one woman with a rifle slung over her shoulder, and fiddlers in the park. Lisa and I were quite refreshed. We sat in the park sipping a beer in complete bliss. We talked about how simple life can be, and our possible future adventures. As the day went on we made our way to a bar at the end of town and played bago. We met a few local girls working the bar and made plans to meet up with them later. After a bite and a little more friendly competition, Lis and I walked to the beach on the banks of the river. We stopped to visit horses on the way. The remainder of the day included more of the same, exploring and loving life.

Later on we decided it was time to find a camp spot. We ran into an obstacle we hadn't dealt with all summer, almost darkness. Sounds like a silly thing to be so concerned about but try being in a room with the lights on for more than a month then someone turns them out. Talkeetna lies 170 miles south of Denali so we should have assumed that there was a possibility that it would get dark, but we were not prepared. To add insult to injury I cleverly led us through a thick forest. So with me on my crutches, Lisa and I bush waked through an unfamiliar forest in the first darkness we'd experienced in almost two months. What an adventure. I fell twice when my crutches were snagged on vines and my heavy backpack pulled me over awkwardly. At least Lisa found it funny. We finally made it to the beach with my pants looking green and Lisa more than likely sore from laughing at me. The tent went up quickly because we were exhausted from all of the fun. That night we fell asleep listening to the river and the satisfaction of a great day.

We woke the next morning and packed up camp. Hobbling into town we almost certainly turned some heads. Then again, this is Alaska, it probably takes more than two dirty hitchhikers to turn heads. Sitting in the park we talked more about life. After a couple of hours of this I heard that more of our friends had made it into town. I told them about the slack line set up in the park and they were there in minutes. We spent the remainder of the day and night with great company enjoying the freedom of Talkeetna and the last days in Alaska. I was starting to get a feel for how difficult leaving was going to be. In reality it was even harder than I guessed.

The next week was full of work and fun. I was enjoying the few days I had left with some of the best people I've met. Time quickly wound down and suddenly I found myself saying my goodbyes. They didn't start out easy. My friend Desi, the first I was forced to part with, shed a tear or two and I knew I was in for a sad morning. Before I knew it I was standing at the train station with Lisa for my final farewell. The train was so loud it was hard to have much of a conversation. It was probably a good thing because nothing good could have come from talking in that circumstance. With one loud final goodbye and my best attempt to save face I turned away and boarded. With one final wave goodbye I was already missing it.

Now I find myself back in Denver. At this point my life is completely up in the air. I sit awaiting surgery or whatever cure the doctor will decide upon. Still a week away from my consultation I mull over my options far too many hours a day. I don't know why I have such a huge restlessness. I do have the option of a four month adventure by car through southern Africa starting in January. Lisa is going with her boyfriend and his sister. They've been planning the trip for sometime and it would be a difficult opportunity to pass up. The giant question looming at this point is my finances. With surgery coming, no ability to work for now, a bad job market once I'm healed, and little time to make money, it seems impossible. I will sell my piano and motorcycle. That will get me closer but I suppose I won't know if I'll be able to make the money until further down the road.

The trip to Africa would be an amazing opportunity for Pedaling for Empowerment as well. I am still searching for a more concentrated cause. I feel passionate about the environment and would love to encourage and assist in green projects in some way. I've been exploring permaculture farming as well and I think it has a lot of wisdom that could significantly help poor farmers. However, the more I research the more I feel that almost every problem in developing countries is somehow rooted in a lack of education. I feel if we loaded the car with school supplies while touring we could help students who lack the most fundamental tools to spur education. I would also finally be able to get that first hand experience so that I can see how people in developing countries really live.

Of course this is all speculative at this point in time. If the money isn't there I'll return to my job from last winter in Avon, Colorado. I'll do my best to save money for my eventual bicycle ride to Argentina.