Alcan Road Trip Pt. 2 | Journal Summary
Today I’m listening to Dad’s old mix CDs while unpacking and cleaning up the house. The Verve and 90s indie alt music mostly, titled 10-11-07. I miss the age I grew up in. I always thought it would stay stagnant, unaware of the inevitable idea of progression and change.
Rewind: Trent and I made the trip down to Texas to grab the last of our things and visit with family for a few days. We did some much-needed retail therapy, got stuck in freeway traffic, got cut off because 75 mph is just too slow for most in Houston, and waited in tons of checkout lines with stores crowded with people. Then drove 6 days back home. We laughed a lot, read three entire audiobooks together, sat in the bliss of silence and conversation with each other without phone service, and lacked a lot of sleep. We rested in high-end Hilton’s, in the car, and a run-down motel with a complementary used bar of Irish spring and half-empty travel bottles of shampoo. And yes, we brought our toiletries.
Within the Thousands of miles, we experienced the utmost beauty of the Canadian Rockies once again, but in the brittle cold and calm of winter. The contrast of green and white. The gradient green with more frost and snow dusted over the spruce the higher the altitude, and animal tracks pressed into the snow crossing over each other's path like busy inner city foot traffic.
We drove through the Yukon Territory, just outside of Whitehorse, and saw the Aurora hanging above snow-covered mountains through the passenger side window. Of course, we stopped for a few minutes to take it in, as if it was the first time to experience it. (Every time is a blessing). We had conversations with older age locals and we stopped at the only burger joint open for hundreds of miles. The trip was that much more memorable than the last. Until it became even more so.
We crossed the border into Alaska, eager to get home, and smiled at each other knowing we were only hours away from our bed and our pups.
35 miles to Tok, Alaska, and 300 or so miles from home, the radiator in the car blew and we were stuck. 22 below but luckily we had a bit of daylight and cell phone service on our side. We waited for a tow for about 45 minutes, wiggling our toes to pass the time and to keep warm. We towed to a restaurant in Tok, and patiently waited 4 hours for our friend from Fairbanks to rescue us with his dulley and car haul trailer. We had conversations with the waitress, munched on a pizza throughout the time, shared a piece of homemade pie, laughed about our luck, and reflected on our luck. How lucky we are. Lucky to have such great friends and community around us here. Lucky for the warmth of that restaurant. Lucky this didn’t happen in YT or BC. Lucky we had cell service to call for help. Lucky we had each other and this memory. Lucky.
I learned that I like our peace. Alaska time and the “no rush” way of living. I’m reminded to do the things I love for enjoyment, not follow trends. To often do things as if it was 20 years ago, because it works best or simply because I just like it that way. If I learned anything about myself on this trip, I learned just how much appreciation I have for the place we live, my husband, and always remembering to bring our toiletries. And to go back to the mix CDs- I’m no longer a child unaware of progression or change, however nowadays I like some things to stay as they were. Friendly neighbors, small communities, no lines or annoying traffic, and sometimes the nostalgia of music you can hold instead of a Spotify playlist.
