America's Last Frontier

People aren’t kidding when they call Alaska an America’s Last Frontier. It is wild, untamed, and fraught with all sorts of mischief. I’ve managed to explore a few places in the first weeks that I’ve been here, and I have yet to be disappointed with all that Alaska claims to be.

I arrived on March 27^th to unexpectedly frigid temperatures, normal to Alaskans and an utter shock to novel visitors such as myself. I had been forewarned about the cold, but nothing could equip me for minus 2 degree temperatures and snow banks as high as my shoulders. Without transportation, walking was my only means for getting around and getting around was what I did: on my rear, hands, and sliding feet. My first run in downtown Fairbanks landed me face-down in the middle of the road, quickly teaching me for the next time around: don’t run outside.

However all of that passed within the last week with the onset of what Alaskans call, “The Break-up.” Fondly referred to as the heralding of spring, it’s the period of the year where streets flood from the dissolving snow and the icy river literally cracks to reveal water below. A few weeks ago I walked on the Chena River not even aware that it was a moving body of water. Now, the river is a melted, slushy mess. Really I can’t complain at all with temperatures now at 60 degrees Fahrenheit; what a welcome relief that is!

With the change of season and increased mobility, I’ve been able to take part of all the outdoor adventures that Alaska has to offer. I’ve taken a dip in Chena Hot Springs while it snowed, watched the Northern lights snake across the sky in the middle of the night, and explored the inside of an abandoned gold dredge. I even took a day to travel out to Denali National Park, where I will be located, and saw the breathtaking remote beauty of the Alaska Range. I leave Fairbanks the first week of May and head to my new home for the next 6 months in Healy, Alaska, located ten miles outside of the park.  I’ll be driving buses of every sort, shuttling passengers from place to place, and making sure they enjoy Alaska as much as possible. In the process, I hope to absorb as much as I can of the beauty and adventure.

Its strange, but sometimes I wake up and think: “Where have I landed myself?” But then I look out the window of my seven story hotel room where I can glimpse the skyline in the morning or the brilliant setting sun; it is then that I am reminded why I’m here. It does my soul good. 

A Glimpse of the Railway in Denali