Road Trip to Alaska (by way of Texas and Massachusetts), 2005

June 18, 2005
Hello from DALLAS, everyone.

I am four days and 2100 miles into my cross-country trip so far. It's been great. Had to exit California via Reno, as the Tioga Pass in Yosemite is still closed due to snow and the southern route across the desert was 109 degrees. I went across central Nevada - very cool, green and mountainous - and into Utah, where I spent the night at Richfield on Tuesday. That night there was a 7.2 quake off the coast near Eureka, which sparked a tsunami warning! So all day on Wednesday, I was being tracked down by the Public Relations person at my university. She had just sent a press release about my tsunami research study to KCBS TV the prior day, and they weren't interested. That night the tsunami alert happened and they wanted to talk to me badly! So I had to stop in places where my cell phone would work in Utah so that both KCBS TV in San Francisco and the CBS National Radio Network could interview me by phone. The story was the lead story on Wed. night's local TV news in SF and evidently ran with a photo of me and my voice being interviewed by cell phone! Too cool! It also was on the national news reports on CBS radio all day!

To escape the glare of the paparazzi, I drove on some VERY back roads in Utah that required me to get out and move rocks out of the way, and then drive 3 feet and check again to see if my tires could go over things without being torn to shreds. What an adventure! But, I made it safely through. Thursday night I got to Amarillo, and tonight I'm in the Big D, Dallas, where I am taking a needed rest from all this driving... Had a laugh on the drive down here today. I stopped at a little house along the road that had a sign saying “home-made doughnuts”. The proprietor was out on the porch and eyed me strangely as I pulled up – wasn’t sure if he was looking at my car or my California plates. When I got inside he and his wife asked where I was from and where I was headed to, and when I said I was from San Francisco and headed to Boston, the man exclaimed, “Well, boy, you done got a bit off-track!” I got a great deal on a beautiful hotel room here in suburban Dallas. Off to the pool and then will head into town for some dinner at a restaurant I remember here called The Black Eyed Pea. More later.

“On the Road Again, Amen!”

June 20, 2005

OK, it's now Sunday night at 11PM and I am in Knoxville, TN. I got a very late start yesterday morning because I was dallying too long in Dallas. I had breakfast at a swanky, local place called Breadwinners Bakery. Dallas is a hoot. There is a gay male bar there called "J.R.'s", and a lesbian bar called "Sue Ellen's". Ah the power of the media! It struck me that "Dallas" and the whole "Who Shot J.R.?" plot line was 25 years ago! Yikes!! Left Dallas and HAD to pay homage to the TV series by driving out to Southfork Ranch, the house that was used in the show. The area has certainly grown up since I was there in the 1980s - lots of malls and subdivisions in the nearby area, whereas it was once vast areas of fields and pastureland. Of course I had the theme from "Dallas" handy on my CD player... part of the soundtrack of my trip. Got a great picture of my car in front of the gate of Southfork... will look good on my office door.

Anyway, it was 1:30 PM when I finally hit the road, and so only made it as far as West Memphis, Arkansas on Saturday night - at 11PM. I guess I am getting old... I can't seem to do those 700 mile marathons like I did in years past. By 450 I am ready to stop now.

I really found Texas fun, and the people are incredibly friendly, but you can keep Arkansas! I stopped at a Western Sizzler tonight for dinner (OK, my first mistake, but it was late and there were slim pickins in terms of restaurants). Almost everyone in this place weighed 300 pounds or more - and most of them were children! I am not kidding. These poor 13 and 14 year old kids weighed more than me. They were in their seats for 30 seconds, scarfing down their latest plate from the "salad bar" - read: MACARONI AND POTATO SALAD BAR. Then they were off again, wearing a trail into the carpeting as they went back and forth to the salad bar to fill up another platter. It was scary and made me feel slim.

This morning I left Memphis at 10:00, munching on cereal and blueberries in the car, planning to stop at the Pancake Pantry, a wonderful find I discovered last summer in Nashville, 3 hours away. Well, 5 miles out of Nashville, traffic on I - 40 came to a complete standstill. There were no exits to escape from the clog, and we crawled maybe 3 miles in 2 hours! Torture! I'd assumed it had to be a major accident, and furiously scanned the radio for a traffic report, but all I could find were gospel preachers screaming into the microphone, peppering their sermons with strangely placed “amen”s in inappropriate places. (And I am telling you...amen...that you are loved...amen...by God...amen...and that he is waiting for you...amen. in his holy amen kingdom.) I sat there thinking, "Can someone...amen...just give me a blessed traffic report...amen...so I can... amen... get to the Pancake Pantry...amen...before it closes? Amen!" Turns out it was just a road construction project, and this was Sunday... God only knows what their rush hour will be like tomorrow. Amen!

Finally arrived at the Pantry at 3:00 and the staff was very sweet and sympathetic as I spilled my guts about the horrors I'd faced in the traffic, and I felt better with a stack of 2 cornmeal cakes and 3 sweet potato cakes... bathed in cinnamon syrup. Mmm, mmm good! I had to cancel a hotel reservation I'd made for Asheville, NC as I knew I'd get there way too late. Pushed on for another 3 hours and just as I arrived into the outskirts of Knoxville... traffic STOPPED cold again! I luckily swerved over into the right lane and exited - even though it was the wrong direction - and had to make a wide detour around Knoxville to escape the massive pile-up. God knows what caused THAT one. (Amen!)

Found a great little hotel 15 miles beyond Knoxville. My room faces out on rolling farmland and forest, there's an indoor pool and jacuzzi, and I could walk to a place touted to be "the best restaurant in Knoxville" for dinner... Puleo’s Grille at exit 398 off I 40. it was a mix of southern U.S. and Italian cuisines. What a meal. I went southern and had an appetizer of fried green tomatoes over cheese grits in a tanno ham sauce! Amen! Wow. Then had roast turkey and all the fixins... and I was too full to even consider dessert. Amazing, eh? Amen!

Tomorrow I will have about a 9 hour drive to Virginia Beach to stay with my cousin for a couple days, and plan to head to Massachusetts on Wednesday. Will do a few overnight trips to northern New England while there, but plan to stay in the area till July 11 or 12... then make my way west toward the Canadian Rockies and Alaska. Gas has been fairly cheap... low of $1.89 in Little Rock, and hovering between $1.99 and $2.09 most other places. I hear it's going to be going up again though.

OK, all for now. Hope all is well with you, wherever you are.

Matt

“The Book”

July 12, 2005

Hello Everyone,

Well, the almost-three weeks in New England flew by and I am now in Buffalo, NY on my way to Michigan, Illinois, and then to Canada and Alaska. It looks like a LONG road. (maybe because it IS!) I just calculated that the drive time from Minneapolis to Calgary as 25 hours! Geez! I will continue my saga from where I left off in Tennessee a few weeks back and get as far as I can before I need to check out of my motel.

I had a great stay on the east coast in Virginia & Massachusetts. The night I spent in Tennessee, I searched online for "Best Barbecue Sandwiches, North Carolina" and came up with someone's website that rates all the places in the state on a scale of 1 to 4 pigs! A 4 pig rating is the best! So I picked one in Greensboro and looked forward to a good pork barbecue as I drove the 9 hours to Va. Beach. The place was amazing - the menu was very limited... I had the pulled pork barbecue sandwich, hushpuppies, cole slaw, and a strawberry cobbler... all delicious and the GRAND TOTAL was $4.64!! Amazing. I love the Internet.

I spent two nights at my cousin Marsha's place in Virginia Beach and it is always fun seeing her and her family and having her slaughter me at Scrabble and Upwords. Her younger son was visiting from Portland, OR and we all had fun catching up. Had a fantastic farewell dinner at a great Italian place in Va. Beach and then I was off the next morning, intending to get to Mass. that night.

I stopped in Richmond, VA to have lunch with my former Master's thesis advisor, Kelly and got the oil changed in my car at a Honda dealer there. Hit the usual traffic in Washington, and it was almost 10:00 PM by the time I got to NY. I decided I needed a pick-up, so drove through the Holland Tunnel into Greenwich Village and made a stop at the infamous Magnolia Bakery for their delicious butter cream-frosted cupcakes and a huge glass of cold milk. Even with that boost, I was dead tired by the time I got into Connecticut and realized I couldn't go another 3 hours to Massachusetts.

I decided to stop at a cheap place and just crash for the night. I had a travel book that you get at rest areas that has coupons for discounted prices on hotel rooms, so armed with this, I found the Milford Inn and pulled in. If I hadn't been so tired, I'd have been more vigilant and would have noted the odd woman smoking and talking to herself out front at 1AM, but I went in and was greeted by a boisterous, cross-eyed man with a truly dreadful New England accent.

"I see youz got the BOOK. Everyone’s got the book!" He was referring to the discount coupon book in my hand. Half asleep, I asked for a room and was told that there were only smoking rooms, but I was desperate and said that would be fine. I went to tear the coupon out of "the book" but the desk clerk stopped me.

"Don't ruin the book! Let me have the book." He proceeded to cut the coupon out meticulously with a little pair of scissors as I rested my head on my arm at the desk, trying not to doze off. Then he started trimming the coupon. It seemed to take forever.

"Youz want a room in the front or the back?" he asked.
"Is there a difference?"
"Well, ya know I am the security guard here and I make the rounds all over"!
I had no idea what this meant. I asked, "Are you saying it's safer in the front than in the back?"
"No it's all the same. I guard it all."

In exasperation, I asked for a quiet room ANYWHERE. At that moment a car pulled up and in walked the driver. My host quickly stopped what he was doing. "Ah look at this - he's got the book! Everyone has the book! Youz had it and now so does he. Everyone's got the book".
And then as the other guest attempted to rip his coupon out of "the book" I had to hear my host going through the same spiel about not ripping the coupon out. I wanted to scream, “Just give me my room”! As it turned out, the room could have waited. I have rarely stayed in such a flea bag - dirty carpets, one bed had hair in it, but the second looked clean, so I just curled up in a ball and slept for 6 hours. Ironically, it was the most expensive night I spent the whole way cross-country... even with the help of "the book".

Got up early and it was a quick 3 hours to Massachusetts and the beginning of my stay there. OK, I need to go now... will try to continue this later tonight or tomorrow. Anyway, all is well, am a little sad to be leaving New England and a little apprehensive about the long trip ahead.

Hope all of you are well, wherever you are...

Love,

MATT

“The Road is Long…”

Sunday, July 17, 2005
Hello all,

Here I am in a motel in far northern Montana, ready to cross over into Canada sometime tomorrow afternoon. I am in Glasgow, and plan to drive another 4 hours due west through Montana and then head up to avoid the $4.00 a gallon gas prices in Canada for as long as possible. I'm in a charming little motel mini-suite with a DSL connection for my computer and cable TV, watching "Dances With Wolves" for the umpteenth time in my life, but it seems very appropriate given where I am! Had a nice dinner, a swim in the indoor pool, and now I’m relaxing and getting ready for tomorrow.

Well, let me back up a bit and continue the saga of my trip. Having survived the fleabag motel in Connecticut, I arrived in Massachusetts and began an approximately 3 week long stay there. I spent the first night at my aunt and uncle's place. What chaos. Their son has bought their home and is building a 1 bedroom attached apartment for them to live in, and then he and his family will renovate the house itself and move in. So there was a team of construction workers there each morning at 7AM, pounding on walls, knocking out windows, tearing holes in walls... at one point the bathroom was completely exposed and open-air; interesting trying to get anything done in there with 8 guys standing around watching! I got very little sleep, since it was hot and humid and I fell asleep at 3AM, only to be wakened at 7:00.

My uncle has been told he has kidney cancer, and some suspicious spots on his lungs. He read about a study in which the spice tumeric shrunk cancer in rats, and so he puts large amounts of it on everything he eats - even oatmeal! Meanwhile, he has a cough so severe that he spends 15 - 20 minutes trying to get his breath. It truly sounds like he is coughing up one or both lungs, and yet he lights up a Camel cigarette every few minutes. My aunt is almost as bad cough-wise, and I clocked her doing 9 cigarettes an hour one night. They are both stressed out and cranky about the impending move, and my uncle made several remarks about how fat I am. Nice. They are a couple of characters. One morning I came down to find them having scrambled eggs for breakfast. My aunt suddenly bit down on something hard, and pulled it out of her mouth. It was a piece of a yellow sponge scouring pad that had found its way into the morning eggs! She stirred around in the remaining eggs to see if there was more. Uncle Harry, who is virtually blind with macular degeneration and can't hear much either, was oblivious to all this. Helena leaned over and surveyed his plate and he noticed that. "What is it, Mother?" he demanded. "Oh... nothing", said she, returning to her eggs with a giggle. Needless to say, I eat only cereal and fruit when I stay there!

Their place is truly amazing. One morning I sat at the table and tried to take it all in so I could describe what it's like to sit at their table. There are four large ashtrays, filled to the top with butts and ashes. There are about 20 bottles of pills, eye drops, jars of tumeric, etc. Packs of cigarettes, lighters, old greeting cards, a 1997 “Barns of Rochester, Massachusetts” calendar, newspapers, a cell phone charger, empty picture frames, old letters, a huge canister of sugar for the coffee, unsharpened pencils, a reading lamp... it is hard to find a place for the cereal bowl and glass of juice in the morning.

Needless to say, I got away as much as possible. Just a couple days after arriving, I was off again with my friend Joyce for a long weekend in Vermont. I hadn't been to Stowe or Lake Champlain before, so this was new turf, and it was just beautiful. Vermont is so quiet and peaceful... more so than New Hampshire. Joyce and I saw waterfalls, swam in the pools at our motels, sat in a covered swing eating cider donuts and sipping fresh coffee, shopped in quaint country stores and found things like a moose bobble-head for the dashboard of a car... and we ate a lot. One highlight was a tour of the Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream Factory... a fun movie and tour, followed by, yes... free samples! Then there was a visit to their ice cream stand to have MORE samples... larger samples. There is an adorable "flavor graveyard" on a hillside... surrounded by a white picket fence and guarded by a huge carving of a raven lie a dozen or so tombstones with the names of retired Ben & Jerry's flavors and the dates of their birth and passing. it was hilarious. We also sampled the famed locally-made Lake Champlain chocolates, local cheeses, fresh strawberries, and attended a rather lackluster strawberry festival - the 90+ degree heat had kept most folks away. It was a great weekend.

The following week, my friend Carol and I headed up the coast through Gloucester and Rockport, MA and then into Maine for an overnight trip. We did our yearly ritual, going on our own personal lobster-fest: steamed whole lobster with all the fixin's for dinner, and an amazing lobster roll and homemade blueberry pie for lunch the following day.

I stayed a couple days at my uncle's again, and then had to bail out for the Motel 6 near Providence to regain my sanity. Who'd have thought that an air-conditioned, non-smoking motel room and a TV with 72 cable channels could feel so much like paradise!

I spent 4th of July with the McK family - friends of my family with whom I literally grew up. I love Mrs. McK (my mother's best friend) and her older daughter, but the younger daughter and her family are a real trip. The younger daughter is married to Kenny - an aging fisherman with a long history of heroin abuse and drinking. He has few teeth left and due to liver damage his face is jaundiced and gaunt and horribly wrinkled. Imagine one of those shrunken apple core head dolls that people carve... in the likeness of Keith Richards of the Rolling Stones... and you have SOME idea what he looks like. He spent much of the 4th underneath his broken down car trying to fix it, and almost made me gag when he ate his holiday hot dog and hamburger with oily, black hands. When he saw my car, he exclaimed, "Hey Mattchew (that's how he pronounces my name)... YAW CAH is goofy lookin'!" The McK's Aunt Barbara, ever the wit, shot back with, "At least his car runs, Kenny!" One of Kenny's most memorable lines was when, referring to my constant traveling, he said, "Jesus Christ, Mattchew... I'd sure like to be a boil on your ass so I could see the world!" That is an image I'll never be able to erase, no matter how hard I try!

I needed breaks from all this excitement, so I ran away again for most of one week. I found a great deal online and got a hotel room north of Boston for 4 nights. It was a luxurious Wyndham Suites hotel and I had a king-sized bed, work desk, and indoor pool that I had all to myself each night for the princely sum of $34 a night! It's a hotel in an office park in a remote area and I guess during the vacation season, they need to try and get customers... it was a quiet and wonderful getaway. I found wonderful new places to eat on Boston's north shore, live "Vic's Waffle House" in Tewksbury, where the crusty New England waitresses asked, "How's that mornin' waffle workin' for youz?", referring to their special waffle containing ground sausage which I ordered on two separate occasions.

I discovered an Italian place that featured a scallop and shrimp pasta puttanesca... delizioso! And I found a new homemade ice cream place in Boston which featured flavors like Burnt Sugar, Cinnamon, Orange-Chocolate, and Fresh Mint. I tried them all. While I was up that way, Carol and her boyfriend Rich met me in Boston and took me to a swanky restaurant to celebrate my promotion and tenure. We had a "lobster bake", featuring clam chowder, a huge platter of steamed clams and mussels, upon which sat a steamed 1.25 lb. lobster, corn on the cob, and a baked potato. I hope I left SOME seafood in the Atlantic ocean by the time I left the northeast.

Saw several movies while back in New England; I saw "Millions" for a second time with Maggi, then saw "Ladies in Lavender" and "Cinderella Man" with Joyce. Absolutely LOVED the latter... what a great movie and a story about a great human being - it was so uplifting. Russell Crowe is becoming one of my favorite actors after seeing him in “Master & Commander”. Had lots of lovely lunches and chats with Maggi and several outings to Providence and Boston with Joyce. All too soon it was time to leave and I was sad to depart. I wonder if my uncle will be around much longer, and this was the last time I will be staying with them on my visits to New England. I also miss my friends there so much; it's hard to say goodbye.

But on Tuesday the 12th, I hit the road and headed slowly west. Gas prices jumped 25 cents a gallon within the last 3 or 4 days I was in Massachusetts. Perfect timing! I made it to Buffalo, NY that night, and then to Ann Arbor, Michigan to see my friend and former student, Stephanie and her fiancée. Had a nice visit with them and some more great food and homemade ice cream. Then I headed on to Illinois and paid a visit to my aunt on my father's side. She's in a nursing home with Alzheimer's disease, and I had not seen her in 16 years. She virtually stopped speaking to me back in 1991 when I told her I was gay, but over the years she at least started to drop me cards now and then. I am glad I went to see her; she did recognize me and cried with surprise when I walked in. Took her to lunch and met her good friend who's been watching out for her for many years now.

From Illinois it was on to Minneapolis, where I had a brief stay... long enough to discover a great place to eat - called the Eatery... lamb reduction over pasta and cauliflower fritters were on the menu that night. I also visited the statue of Mary Richards, the character made famous by Mary Tyler Moore in her 1970s TV show. Yes, they've erected a bronze statue of her tossing her hat in the air in front of the Marshall Field's department store on the pedestrian mall as her character did in the opening credits of the TV show. Again, the power of the media is awesome! This pilgrimage to visit this tribute to my TV heroine gave me a second wind. I doubted if I had it in me to get all the way to Alaska, but as the show's theme song said, "You might just make it after all..." While in the Twin Cities I got my car its 20,000 mile service and oil change, and satisfied that all was working well, I hit the road for Fargo yesterday and now am in Montana tonight.

I have found several interesting and thankfully not too expensive places to stay for the next few nights: a hotel in Calgary, Alberta tomorrow, a furnished teepee tent on a river in Jasper, a lakeside cabin in Muncho Lake, B.C. and then a lakeside lodge in Yukon Territory. I reach Alaska on Friday the 22nd, and depart on the ferry to Juneau next Saturday. At last, I will be able to say I have been in all 50 states!

OK, all for now. May not be in touch for a few days depending on whether the places I stay have internet connections. Anticipate being home in SF on the 6th of August.

Thanks for reading... stay well everyone!

Love and hugs -

MATT

“The Long and Lonely Road”

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

Hello All,

As I suspected, I have not had access to Internet at all for the past few days, and most of the places I've stayed have not even had a telephone. So here is a record of what I've been experiencing since I last wrote from Montana.

I am staying at a lodge at Mile 442 of the Alaska Highway in Muncho Lake, British Columbia.
I left my Montana motel on Monday morning and started the long drive to Calgary. The weather was perfect, but the rolling, starkly beautiful hills of North Dakota and eastern Montana turned into a flat plain that went on as far as the eye could see. "Big Sky Country" indeed. I never realized how much the Rockies angle in a southeast-northwest direction. While the mountains begin at Denver further south, the plains extend much farther west up north in Montana - by several hundred miles. I was as far west as Salt Lake City before the mountains were starting to appear. But then I made a sharp right turn to the north into Canada and the mountains vanished again, leaving me crossing the flat Alberta plains to Calgary. The border crossing was easy and fast. I didn't even have to show ID of any kind! There was also little traffic at all... the road to the border was virtually deserted. It was almost eerie.

I neglected to mention the absolutely awful radio I encountered in North Dakota and Montana on Sunday. I always hate driving on Sunday because none of my usual talk shows are on, and the airwaves are populated by preachers ("Amen!"), shows about investing, and sports. But in Dakota there was Polka music! Yes, it was actually hard to escape it...as I scanned the dial I heard memorable polka gems like, :"The Polka Nut Polka" by a group called... the Polka Nuts! There was a money advisor who was also a born again Christian and claimed that God had given him this show to help people sort out their financial messes: "You need to pay off those high-interest credit cards today! Amen!"

In Canada it actually got worse. There are only a couple of stations: CBC 1 and CBC 2, which sound a lot like National Public Radio in the U.S. The big news stories over the past couple of days: Canadian beef is once again being transported to the U.S. after two years since there were several cases of mad cow disease among Canadian cattle; James Doohan, the actor who played "Scotty" on "Star Trek" died, and that's about all we've heard up here in terms of headlines. Then there are talk shows: no call-in shows, no dynamic talk show hosts... The Canadian hosts and their guests speak in hushed, reverential tones about serious topics like battling cancer through self-healing, experiencing nature in the British Columbian wilderness, or the status of women in modern India. Have a little fun, people!

Anyway, I got to Calgary late, as usual... almost 9 PM. The Ramada Inn I'd reserved was run-down and tacky, but I was so tired I didn't even care. I'd stopped and had a huge breakfast in Montana (at "The Hitchin' Post" restaurant where the patrons honestly looked at me like I'd flown in from Mars). So all I did was run out to a gelateria I'd seen advertised in a guide book in the hotel room, have some ice cream, and return to the hotel to crash.

I didn't wake up and get on the road till almost 10 AM, but luckily had a somewhat shorter day planned in terms of driving. I headed west on the Trans Canadian Highway and after another hour of flat plains, the Rockies began to appear and I arrived in Banff National Park. This area truly has to be on of the most beautiful I have seen anywhere in the world. The mountains are magnificent, the rivers and lakes are tinged with an aqua blue from the glacial sediments in the water, and the trees grow tall and lush. I'd only been in this area once before and that was in June when things are a little less crowded. Banff in July was a madhouse, so I elected to stop for a take-out lunch and then picnic somewhere along the road ahead.

It's about a 4 hour drive north along the Icefields Parkway from Banff to Jasper, and the entire ride is within the national park boundaries. Last time I'd been there I had seen at least 8 bears, as well as elk, caribou, a moose, and several bighorn sheep. This time it seemed like there was just too much traffic on the road and sightings were non-existent until I ventured off on a rough side road that paralleled the main highway and soon was rewarded with the sight of a large black bear and several elk with antlers so huge and elaborate I do not know how they can even raise their heads. I stopped at a lodge in Jasper and had a phenomenal dinner of venison medallions in a burnt chocolate and sour cherry preparation, with some cheddar mashed potatoes and I was in heaven. Fortified by dinner, I continued another hour north to the town of Hinton to the place I was to spend the night.

It was called the Old Entrance B & B and I'd found it on the web. I found that I could camp out in a river-side teepee for 1/3 the cost of any motel in Jasper (prices up here are outrageously expensive and Canadian taxes make the Bay Area seem cheap by comparison! Gas is approximately $3.25 to $4.00 a gallon, and filling up when empty costs $45 or $50. Ouch!) Anyway, I got there to the B & B by 9:30 and it was still fairly light out. The owners turned out to be a lesbian couple. Given how late it was they just pointed me toward my teepee and I was on my own. It was a 16 foot teepee with a small door that required squatting to get through. Inside was a double bed on the floor, a pot bellied stove, and a couple of chairs and tables. There were many candles which I promptly lit, and there was firewood and kindling to make a fire. I surprised myself by how easily I was able to get a fire going in the stove (those hours of watching "Survivor" paid off!), and I was equally surprised by how much heat it put out... I'd transformed my teepee into a sweat lodge! I made my bed and read my guidebooks for a while by candlelight (not an easy task at 46 years old....) and turned in around 11:00, but the chill woke me at 1:00 and caused me to sit up rebuilding and re-stoking the fire. I imagine the low temperature that night was about 45 degrees.

Breakfast was at 8:30, and I woke around 8:00, got my shower and got the car packed before heading to the table. I had discovered that the place I'd reserved for that night was a LOT farther away than I had bargained for. I had a 730 mile drive ahead of me and much of that would be on the legendary Alaska Highway. I'd read guidebooks that talk about the harsh road conditions, loose gravel, logging trucks, etc. so had no idea how long it would take me to get that far. The only plus was that I was crossing from Alberta in British Columbia and therefore, gaining an hour. Any little bit helps!

Breakfast was a tasty mix of pancakes with strawberry rhubarb sauce and homemade sausage. Met a couple from Oakland, a lesbian couple from Australia, and a few local Canadians who thought I was insane to be driving so far in a day. They don't know me. So off I went on a full belly at 9:30 AM. The first 290 miles were on small roads that were nothing special but on which I was able to make excellent time - 65 or 70 mile an hour speeds were possible most of the way. Finally, around 2:00 I arrived at Dawson Creek, B.C. - famous for being "Mile Zero" - the starting point of the Alaska Highway. I had to traverse 442 miles of it to reach the lodge where I'd made my reservation for the night. Oy!

The road really surprised me. First, it is much less traveled than I was led to expect from what I'd read. You come up on a motor home or a slow truck, but it's easy to pass as the road is very, very straight and there's little oncoming traffic. I was able again to stay at 65 or 70 most of the time, though there are many patches of road construction that slow you down. Early on, miles-long fields of brilliant yellow flowers were everywhere - I found that they were canola, from which we get the oil. Soon, however the road crosses low hills of dense pine forest. As you go north and west it grows more mountainous, but the road makes very few twists and turns... it somehow just goes between the hills and continues straight ahead. I would almost describe the sensation of driving on it as "claustrophobic" in that there are only 2 lanes, a shoulder, and then a swath has been cut on each side like a large firebreak. And then the trees form a solid, unbroken line. Mostly firs, with some birch, they continue... the road continues. For mile after mile. Mile 100. Mile 200. Only 242 more to my motel! Endless. I almost panicked when I consulted the map and saw that Whitehorse, in the Yukon Territory, which is near the point where I will dip down into Alaska, is at mile marker 985! And the road goes all the way to Fairbanks... I think that's mile 1600! I can’t imagine that trip.

I have never seen such loneliness. Yes, there are stretches of Utah and Arizona that are desolate. But you know there are towns coming up, and if you're on the main highways, there are signs, radio stations, other traffic, and some services. But the Alaska Highway defies comparison. Mile 300. Mile 400. In all this distance I went through only two real "towns" - Fort St. John and Fort Nelson. Otherwise there'd be a small service station and cafe every 75 to 80 miles, but every other one seemed closed. There were lots of deer and caribou grazing on the sides of the road but mercifully they seem to stay out of the road itself.

Rain started at Mile 200 and continued all day. As it got late, there was pea-soup fog, which caused me to slow way down and to wonder what wildlife might come springing out in front of me. It was very tiring. At one point I'd been resting my right arm on the passenger seat, and shifted in my seat, bringing my right hand to the steering wheel. That action made me startle myself for a split second as I thought it was someone else's hand coming up from the back seat. Ok, when you start to hallucinate, it’s time to stop for the night! Soon! I did stop at my motel at mile marker 442 for the night - having driven almost 13 hours total. Dinner was awful... stopped at a place that had a whole slew of things listed on a white board. I thought they were the specials. No... it turns out that these were the things that they'd run out of! Ended up with a not-too-memorable Buffalo Burger and fries.

It's now Thursday the 21st, and I am continuing the letter. This morning I had my $13 breakfast of eggs, sausage, toast and coffee... ah yes, toast is either "brown or white" up here - interesting. The rain continued and I was back out on the Alaska Highway... Mile 500, Mile 600, Mile 700. Those of you on the east coast should imagine driving from Boston to North Carolina; on the west coast think Eureka to San Diego. Imagine in all this distance nothing but an unbroken 2 lane road cut through the forest, with only 3 actual towns the whole way (Watson Lake today was the 3rd). Around mile 700 an upsetting thing happened.

As I came down a long hill I saw some traffic stopped in the opposite direction and there seemed to be a vehicle in the middle of the road and some people in the road stopping traffic. I assumed it was yet another road construction delay, but as I got close I saw frantic people motioning for me to stop. There'd been an accident between a motorcycle and a pick-up truck. The motorcyclist was lying in the middle of the road, the pick-up was wrecked; the driver of the pick-up was a basket case. Other people coming from the opposite direction in large motor homes and trucks had stopped to try and help. No one's cell phones worked and of course, neither did mine. A man came to my window and said that he'd taken the pulse of the motorcyclist - he was dead. But no one could get through the debris in their large vehicles, and no one knew what to do. So I said I'd get through and try to call someone. Since my car is 4 wheel drive, I was able to go off-road a bit to get around the debris and the body -that was really a strange feeling. And then I went as fast as possible to the next ANYTHING, which was 22 miles further up the road - a small service station. The owner called the police and had me report where the whole thing was. I was glad I was able to help, but it was very sad to know that someone had lost his life that day in the blink of an eye.

I drove on through endless rain, and not one car caught up to me all of the rest of the day, so I am assuming the road was closed and that others were not able to get through for some time. So on I traveled along this highway that now felt even lonelier than it had before. Mile 750. Mile 800. Mile 850. I arrived at Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, Mile 875 at 6:00 PM Pacific Standard Time. I have now traveled almost 1600 miles northwest from the Montana - Canada border. I am much farther west than Seattle or Portland, and a few hundred miles north of Juneau, Alaska - as far north as the top of Hudson Bay or the northern coast of Labrador. On the far edge of the world. The rain finally stopped here and at 11:30 PM I was treated to a beautiful sunset, which made me feel even more thankful than usual that I was alive, well and here to see it.

Love,

MATT

“The Final Frontier: Alaska at Last!”

Sunday, July 24, 2005

Hello from Juneau!

Well, things have improved significantly since the last e-mail, and that may or may not be related to the fact that I'm back in the U.S. I arrived at Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, Canada on Thursday evening, but still had no cell phone or Internet access at all. Whitehorse is a "big city" of 30,000 people - not particularly scenic, but at least there were services and restaurants, etc. I had dinner there with a French Canadian guy I'd met via the Internet a couple weeks back. His name is Rejean, and he moved from Quebec to Whitehorse 15 years ago. It was interesting hearing about life in such a remote place, but it seems that people who live there spend a lot of money traveling to other places like Calgary, Toronto, or Anchorage when they get stir-crazy. After dinner Rejean showed me around the city a bit. One interesting place he took me to was a wooden suspension bridge that crosses the river near town. He wanted to show me something there that had special significance to him. It seems that a couple of years back he'd noticed that someone had carved into the bridge railing the following "poem":
"I hate Richard McKay... I hate him because he's gay. All gay people are sick and need to be sent away"

Rejean said that he'd noticed that carving and it always bugged him - he never seemed to be able to get it out of his mind. Last April Whitehorse hosted a Gay Pride celebration, and he was bored by the usual superficial carrying on... and then it struck him. He drove to this bridge - treading through a few feet of snow to get to it at that time of year. He took a carving knife with him and simply eradicated the entire "poem". He said he felt that THIS was what Gay Pride SHOULD be all about. It’s like finding the “true meaning of Christmas” I think.

The next day I left Whitehorse and braved another 100 miles of the Alaska Highway to Haines Junction amidst terrible construction and dust and mud and truck traffic. My windshield has more than a few pits now. Finally I reached the Haines Highway, a 159 mile road that dead-ends at Haines, Alaska, the town from which I'd be taking the ferry to Juneau and points south. The road was beautiful and well-kept and the mountain scenery was terrific. I got to the border crossing and showed my driver's license and was through in one minute flat. The weather held up all day, with lots of puffy clouds and a sprinkle here or there for excitement. Temperatures are in the 60s and very pleasant.

I found a small and relatively cheap motel room in Haines for Friday night - still no Internet or phone. I had dinner at a nearby place - wild salmon steak - the reddest piece of salmon I have ever seen. Lots of bones, but tasty nonetheless and about 1/2 of the cost of food up in Canada. Likewise, I had a great, full breakfast at a bakery-cafe in the morning and it cost under $7.00. Gas in Haines was $2.89 a gallon which seemed cheap after Canada, but I suspected it'd be cheaper in Juneau so decided to wait to fill up there - and I was correct: Juneau is $2.47. I imagine that is a LOT cheaper than good old, price-gouged San Francisco!

After breakfast on Saturday morning I headed out to the ferry terminal to check in. You must arrive 2 hours before your departure time. I was actually the first one in line and the first to drive onto the ferry. Got myself a comfy chaise lounge on the upper deck's covered solarium, and sat... and sat... and sat... we were delayed by 2 hours as the crew somehow struggled to get a couple of trucks and a U-Haul trailer aboard! Ugh! The trip was pleasant enough... it was a beautiful sunny day and the cool breeze off the ocean felt good. The trip to Juneau took 4.5 hours, and the scenery all the way consisted of fir-covered hills, snowcapped mountains, and an occasional glacier snaking down from the mountains.

There was an interesting cast of characters aboard, though one woman stood out. She'd been in a car next to me in the line waiting to board the ferry and was blasting music that no one else wanted to hear on her car stereo. She was dressed in a loud, leopard-skin print coat, wearing huge dark glasses and had a Sony Walkman, and as she lay in her chair in the solarium, she was making gestures along with the music as if she were conducting an orchestra, and then stopping to engage people in strange and seemingly unwelcome conversations. Other folks set up campsites in the solarium, marking their territory with sleeping bags and back packs. Some actually pitched tents on the deck by tying their tents to the rails and duct-taping them to the deck. These folks were likely spending several hours to a couple days on board, as the ultimate destination of our boat was Bellingham, WA. The rest of my trip will be broken up into somewhat smaller segments. On Wednesday morning I depart Juneau for the 4.5 hour trip to Sitka; on Thursday night I leave Sitka for the 22 hour trip to Ketchikan, but will have my own cabin on that leg; and on Sunday night I leave for Prince Rupert, Canada, which will be a 7 hour journey.

We got into Juneau at 6:00 PM, and I drove to my motel near downtown, the Breakwater Inn.
Had a nice room with an in-room jacuzzi tub, king sized bed and view of a boat harbor, but it faces a very busy highway, so the traffic noise has been annoying. Worse is the fact that my room is directly under the restaurant - it sounds like a herd of stampeding moose on the ceiling all day until the place closes at 11 PM, but then it gets worse till 1:00 AM as they move tables, clean and vacuum floors, and slam things around. Sleep continues to be elusive...
OK, I have more to say about Juneau, but it's now late Sunday night and I need to be at the airport at 8:15 AM. I'll be on a 4 seater airplane that will take me to the island of Gustavus, at the mouth of Glacier Bay, and on Tuesday I will take an 8 hour boat trip of the bay to get a close up look at the glacier. I'll be leaving my car and most of the luggage at the long term parking lot in Juneau until I return on Tuesday evening. Not sure when I will next have access to the Internet, but will write again when I can.

Take care everyone.
MATT


“Half-Cats and Half-Cooked”

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

Hello Everyone,
How's that for a title with a tease? Half-Cats and Half-Cooked. Yes, it gives you some clues about the experiences I have had as I made my way from Haines to Juneau and out to Glacier Bay.

Last time I wrote I had arrived in Juneau on Saturday, but I need to back up slightly to Friday night at Haines, AK. I spent the night there and departed by ferry for Juneau the next morning. After 8 days of Canadian radio: "Today we’ll be talking about the art and empowerment of Polynesian women...” I was happily surprised to spin the dial and find the very American Art Bell Show. Art Bell is a strange and mysterious figure who lives in the mountains of Nevada near Area 51 and discusses all kinds of strange, supernatural and extra-terrestrial topics. I love listening to this show when driving late at night... listening to tales of UFO encounters as you drive down a dark desert highway at 1:00 AM is almost like being told a good ghost story when you were a child. At any rate, Art was talking to his "correspondent", a woman named Linda who phones in "news" stories from around the globe. Tonight she was reporting on the sharp increase in half-cat sightings in Washington State. Yes, you read that correctly... "half-cat sightings". What's wonder-ful about this show is that they have such a cult following that they seldom need to explain what they're talking about to their audience. It's just presumed that everyone KNOWS what a half-cat sighting is, in the same way that the mainstream media just assume that we all know Tom Cruise has become psychotic.

So it took me awhile to piece together the details of this story, but the gist of it is that people in the areas around Puget Sound, Washington are finding the front half of their cats, dead of course, sitting on their front lawns. There is a head, shoulders, and the two front legs... the rest is missing. Linda quoted an "eye-witness" who'd found a half-cat and said it looked like a child's hand puppet. Local animal control officials claim these are the results of coyote attacks, but there are some strange facts that seem to refute such an idea. The half-cats have no blood or scarring... they have been "re-sealed" using very high heat. With a straight voice, Al Bell said, "Well certainly coyotes are not capable of THAT!" I wanted to call in and offer that if this was the work of coyotes, why did they only eat half the cat? And why the BACK half? Ew! Al asked Linda whether it was always the front half of the cat that people found, and she replied that this is the case 90% of the time, but occasionally a back-half, half-cat shows up. She says this is not an isolated incident: London, Toronto, Phoenix, rural Nebraska, and yes, even Manhattan have had flurries of half-cat sightings. Pet owners, beware! Keep careful watch over your cats or you too could become a half-cat owner!

Onward to Juneau. I spent two nights in Juneau at the Breakwater Inn. The place was not as picturesque as it had appeared in the internet pictures, but the room was nice and had a king sized bed and king-sized jacuzzi tub in the room. The problem was that it was located underneath the Inn's restaurant and bar. The noise above was deafening. People running across my ceiling, tables banging, pounding noises, vacuum cleaners... and best of all, a floor buffer being used at 1:00 AM on Monday morning. I was so annoyed I ran out into the halls and screamed upstairs, "Are you almost finished up there? People are trying to sleep!" They looked surprised and said, "we're almost done". Great. At 6:00 the garbage truck arrived and played basketball with a dumpster immediately beneath my window. As I started to fall back to sleep, noises started emanating from the restaurant above... the breakfast preparation. It was like trying to sleep in a bowling alley! When I checked out that morning, I was cranky and exhausted and I looked at the desk clerk and asked, "Do people not complain about the noise from the restaurant? They were banging tables and buffing the floors until 1:30 this morning! I have had no sleep!" She looked genuinely surprised, apologized, and said that no, no one had complained before. Their patrons must have been comatose.

Juneau itself is a strange little town of 30,000 residents. It sits on the Gastineau Channel, a calm canal-like body of water, and is protected from the open sea by many islands and inlets; it's probably at least 65 miles from the Pacific itself. The ferry dock is 15 miles from downtown (BAD planning) and the whole community clings to the coastline strip for 15 miles to downtown. Mountains and glaciers rise immediately to the east. For a capital city, it is a rather laid-back place, rough around the edges, and it's an odd location given that you can only fly or boat in. The state of Alaska has tentative plans to build a 75 mile road from here to Skagway, Alaska up north which would link Juneau to the mainland and Canada. The proposed road would be crossing some amazingly rugged terrain and would be threatened by no less than 16 major avalanche zones. Mankind never learns. Downtown there are the cruise ship docks, where two or three skyscraper-like cruise ships are docked each day. The shops in the area are very touristy and flocks of cruise ship escapees roam the streets like crazed maniacs, all the while elbowing people out of the way and checking their watches. I am so glad I did not do the Alaska cruise option; I'd have hated it. I like having my car and using the ferry and being able to drive off at the next destination to continue exploring.

In a strange way, this area of Alaska reminds me of Hawaii. It is isolated enough to feel like an island, and you have the same strange mix of native people and whites and tourists all trying to get along. Like Hawaii, you feel similarly removed from the rest of the U.S. and the world here. So much of life revolves around the ocean and tourism in both places. The souvenir shops are very reminiscent of those in Honolulu or on Maui. The cost of living is high here, but prices aren't as bad as Hawaii - especially regarding food in terms of both the grocery stores and restaurants. But the food here can't compare to that of Hawaii. Sunday provided a couple of good examples of that. I went to a locally-recommended cafe for breakfast on Sunday and had blueberry pancakes. As I started eating them and thinking how they were nowhere near as tasty as the ones I make, I suddenly came upon an area of completely uncooked pancake batter. Ew! Pulling the cake apart, I found that the vast majority of the inside was completely uncooked. I showed the waitress; she took $2 off the price! That night I had dinner at the Inn (I figured that I might as well eat there once since I heard them cleaning the place so often from my room!). I ordered salmon, halibut and vegetable tempura. It looked good until I bit into it... it was tempura sushi! The fish was completely uncooked and cold in the middle, the vegetables were raw. I told the waiter and he did bring me another order with many apologies, but though the fish were cooked on the second attempt, the veggies were still cold and crunchy. Yuck. Cook your food, people!

While in Juneau I met another person I'd been in touch with through the internet, Don. He is a computer programmer and returning student who lives on his boat in the harbor. We managed to find a fully cooked meal at a good place called the Twisted Fish.... the halibut was delicious and they make a great sweet potato and shrimp fritter! Don actually invited me to stay on his boat later in the week, as I was returning from Glacier Bay at 8 PM, and had to catch the ferry at 5:00 AM, so that saved me another $100 stay at the Breakwater Inn! He told me an interesting about Juneau's "bootleg" radio station. It seems that someone in the area has been sending out 24 hour a day radio transmissions in the area. No one knows who it is, the signal can't be traced, and the FCC is really not taking it too seriously as, well... it's Juneau and who cares! The station plays some interesting music, but also raunchy stuff that would never be allowed on a "real" station. Bizarre. People have made bumper stickers supporting 96.9 FM even though no one knows who's running the show.

One of the highlights of Juneau is the Mendenhall Glacier, which is located just north of the city. I visited there on Sunday and got nice photos of this blue-gray river of ice emptying into a lake in which a few large icebergs floated. I also got to see salmon swimming upstream to spawn, which was very cool. Those are some tough fish! I must admit I have been skittish about hiking very much because of the bear threat. Everyone talks about "a person they know" who was mauled or attacked, and it's unnerving. You are supposed to make as much noise as possible as you hike, and I have to say I feel more than a little stupid walking through the woods talking to myself and singing. I wish I had the "Lost in Space" robot with me, who could warn me with a "Danger, Will Robinson! Grizzly bear approaching! Danger! Danger!"

Well, on Monday morning I went to the airport to catch my flight over to the hamlet of Gustavus, the gateway to Glacier National Park. I left my car in the long-term parking lot... it felt strange to be separated from my loyal friend after all these weeks. I was flying on L.A.B. Airways, and although I knew I'd be on a small plane, I didn't realize HOW small. It was a Piper plane and I was the only passenger. I sat up front with the pilot and there was a backseat that could have fit two small people. I swear I have more room in my Honda Element than there was in that plane! It was like a Mazda Miata with wings! Off we went into the wild GRAY yonder... it drizzles and is overcast a LOT here. As we soared in and out of clouds and passed what seemed to be dangerously close to tree-covered mountain tops, I couldn't help thinking of all the singers who died in small plane crashes... John Denver, Patsy Cline, Buddy Holly. Thank God I haven't kept up with my karaoke career or I might have been added to that list! It was a little scary, but mostly just fantastic to see this countryside from the air.

The flight was 30 minutes long. At the Gustavus air strip the van to my hotel, The Glacier Bay Country Inn, was waiting for me. This place had been recommended to me by my friend Peter in SF (Thanks, Peter!) and it was everything he said it would be. I was operating on only 4 hours of sleep and was just exhausted. We arrived at the hotel at only 10:00 AM but my individual cabin was already ready for me. It was a gorgeous little house all of my own. The silence was deafening. I could hear flies and bees from 50 feet away. I immediately crawled into the bed that was as comfortable as a cloud and snuggled in the flannel sheets. Paradise. I tried to nap, but the fact that it wasn't raining made me want to get outside, so I borrowed one of the Inn's bikes and though the seat was way too low for me and could not be raised, I managed to pedal into "town" if you can call it that... about 3 or 4 miles away. I had lunch - a halibut sandwich (caught and filleted that morning), clam-salmon chowder, and strawberry rhubarb cobbler - at a cafe attached to a B & B called the Bear's Nest. I was the only customer. The owner/chef/waitress told me that she and her husband were pretty much living off credit cards, as business has not really recovered since 9-11.

Gustavus is an interesting place. It feels like an island, but is really a flat area at the tip of a mountainous peninsula. Fans of the old TV show "Northern Exposure" would see some similarities between this place and the fictional town of Cicely, Alaska. There are perhaps 200 people who live here, scattered around an area which has no real downtown. There's a cool vintage gas station with old fashioned pumps, a Mercantile, a cafe, an airstrip, and a few widely scattered B & B's - none of these concentrated in one area. There is no police force or station, and there are no taxes here. The Lodge and visitor’s center for Glacier Bay National Park are 10 miles off at the far end of the broad, flat area. As I rode my bike into town, everyone driving a vehicle waved at me. Conversation on the island centers on fishing and planes. The island's lifeline is its air connection to Juneau and many of the locals are to be found hanging out by the airstrip waiting for supplies to come in.

It began to rain quite hard after I'd eaten my lunch, so I pedaled in the rain back to my cozy cabin at the inn, climbed into those flannel sheets and slept 2 hours, waking up in time for afternoon tea, which was followed by a 3 course dinner 2 hours later. There was an eclectic mix of guests. There was "the nanny" - a NY City woman who bore a resemblance to TV’s Fran Drescher - voice and wardrobe included - and her son and husband. There was a crazy man from New Hampshire who kept making absurd and inappropriate jokes as his wife and cousin rolled their eyes in embarrassment. There was a Georgia father and son fishing team, and a man from North Carolina who talked unceasingly about his hobby: geo-caching. There is a cult-like group which uses geo-satellite tracking devices to do scavenger hunts around the world to find children's toys hidden in "caches". This guy found a yo-yo near the Gustavus airstrip. No one at dinner seemed too enthralled. Now perhaps if he'd found a half-cat, he'd have generated some excitement.

The star of the dinner table, both literally and figuratively, was Jerry, a tall, exceptionally handsome 40-ish guy with a mop of black hair, stubble, and a clingy "Bodyglove" sweatshirt that emphasized each considerably chiseled pec and ab. Tanned beyond belief, Jerry was of course from L.A. and with a little prodding we found that he was somewhat of a celebrity - Jerry Penacoli, a celebrity interviewer for the entertainment show "Extra". He is also an actor who has had roles in various soap operas and in sitcoms like "Ellen". He was actually very funny and self-deprecating and of course I was all ears when he talked about various celebrities... including his many interviews with Cher, who he says is an absolute delight. It was wonderful to talk about something besides fishing and geo-caching, let me tell you! Dinner was delicious - a roasted pepper soup, duck a l'orange with barley and veggies, and a nectarine Napoleon for dessert. After dinner I tried to help Jerry with the internet connection we had at the lodge and learned his AOL screen name… hmmm, should I become a stalker? Went to bed by about 10, as those of us going on the tour to Glacier Bay the next day had to be up for breakfast by 6:15 AM. Slept like a log.

Morning came all too soon and I had to pry myself out of my wonderful bed. I have got to get a set of flannel sheets for my own bed at home! After a huge country breakfast, 6 of us were on a shuttle to the National Park to do an 8 hour boat tour of Glacier Bay. Unfortunately, the fun people like Jerry and the Nanny were doing other things that day, so I was with the crazy New Hampshire guy and the crazy geo-cache guy and their wives. Boarded a boat with about 75 other folks and off we went to explore the far reaches of the Bay. I must confess that the ride was pretty boring, given that rain and low fog obscured most of the scenery. I actually fell asleep a couple times, but when I was awake I marveled at the silver salmon leaping out of the water everywhere, and we did see a number of whales, sea otters, sea lions, eagles and funny red-footed birds called Puffins. The crew were fun and entertaining, and one member of the crew, Adam, spent a lot of time talking to me when he learned I was a professor. He is working in Alaska for a summer job and goes home to Michigan in September to complete his senior year at college.

The very long 3 hour trip to the head of the bay was rewarded by our visit to the Johns Hopkins Glacier. At the end of a long, narrow inlet, we had hints that it must lay further ahead as large icebergs started to appear and float past us. It was like boating in a mixed drink! Finally we rounded the bend and saw the glacier ahead, very blue colored in the gray light. Thankfully the rain stopped and as we pulled within ¼ mile of the edge of the glacier, the captain cut the engine and it was quiet and not windy. Then we began to hear the noise of the glacier – periodic explosions that varied from the sound of a rifle, to a cannon, to a nuclear bomb - echoing across the inlet. Sometimes nothing visible happened on the face of the glacier, but other times, huge masses of ice and rock went tumbling into the water, some generating little mini-tsunami that rocked our boat. It was really exciting and we spent a good 30 minutes parked there watching the show.

Throughout the day we ate well - halibut filets, clam chowder, warm cookies and hot chocolate. The temperature was probably in the upper 40's but the rain and wind from the moving boat made it hard to stay outside too long. Finally returned to the visitor's center at 4:10 and were met by a member of the hotel staff who was taking several of us to the Gustavus airstrip for our flights back to Juneau at 5:30. They had bad news for me: my airline, L.A.B. had not been flying all day due to the weather. I had two options: try to catch the ferry from the National Park to Juneau - 3 more hours on a boat - and that would leave me 10 miles away from where my car was parked at the airport! Or I could try to find a seat on another airline. I opted for the second choice, and luckily the airline that the New Hampshire and North Carolina folks were booked on had one extra seat for me - though I had to suffer more of their inane conversations. Anyway, despite the intrigue I managed to get back to Juneau - but had to pay $25 more than my original airline was charging for the trip. I did get a refund from my airline at least!

And now it's Wednesday the 27th. I spent the night in a very uncomfortable bed on Don's boat in Juneau, but it was a free bed, so I can't complain. Had to be at the ferry terminal at 5AM for the 7:00 departure and it was pouring all day long. The ferries are really nice though, and they have a ranger giving talks and pointing out wildlife all along the way. I saw at least 6 or 7 humpback whales flapping their tails repeatedly on the water; they feed here all summer and then go to Maui to mate in the winter. Not a bad life. There were literally hundreds of silver salmon leaping from the water. Evidently this is done to loosen the eggs before they start the journey up the local streams to spawn. The trip to Sitka took 4.5 hours, and after a lunch of some of the best tasting salmon I have ever eaten, I checked in at my B & B, in the waterfront home of a bubbly woman named Sue. Sitka is very beautiful; the scenery now resembles that of Oregon and Washington - very green and rain-forested with little snow on the surrounding peaks. Sitka is close to the open ocean and the harbor is dotted with dozens of little spruce-covered island. Miraculously the sun appeared mid-afternoon, and I spent an enjoyable time sitting by the harbor and watching an enormous sea lion fishing for salmon. He'd get a salmon in his mouth and toss it around with great abandon like a dog playing with a chew-toy. Then he'd swallow it whole and dive for more. It's 11PM now, and I am about to call it a night. I hear rain outside again - what a surprise! I will e-mail this on Thursday morning from a cyber cafe here in town. I spend all day in Sitka, and then at 9PM I have to again board the ferry for Ketchikan, a 22.5 hour trip! I have reserved a cabin on the ferry so will have a comfortable place to sleep on the overnight journey. I'll spend the weekend in Ketchikan, and then finally depart for Prince Rupert, B.C., Canada where I arrive on Monday morning. Then it's a two day drive to Vancouver, and I hope to stop in Seattle and Portland before I arrive home on the 6th - and I hope I don't find any half-cats down that-a-way!

All for now. I know this was a LONG e-mail. Hope you enjoyed reading it all.

Lots of love,
MATT

"Sleepless North of Seattle and the End of the Road"

Hello from San Francisco. It’s now Saturday morning, August 6, and I actually slept in my own bed for the first time since June 13th! So this is the last installment of my travel adventures (for THIS trip, anyway!) and all too soon it’ll be time to be back in the classroom, trying to explain to my students that words like THEN and THAN or WOMAN and WOMEN are not interchangeable. Summers go by way too fast.

Well, as I predicted, last Sunday in Ketchikan, Alaska was a long day. On Saturday night I spent the night at a Super 8 motel in this town. It felt more like a college dorm, or worse yet, the set of MTV’s “Real World”, in which young adults live together in a common area, drink heavily, argue, and have sex with one another. About 12 or 15 young “adults” occupied 5 or 6 rooms surrounding my own. They came in at 11:00 PM, and there was yelling, slamming of doors, and constant visits from room to room, preceded by loud knocks on the doors. This went on till 1 AM and I called the front desk. A short time later I heard the desk clerk come up and talk to them and things quieted down for maybe 20 minutes… enough time to almost doze off before being awakened by slamming doors, giggles, and more knocks on doors. I went to the door and mentioned that it was 1:30 AM and that people were trying to sleep. it got worse. At 2:30 I called the desk again. And again at 3:20. The desk clerk sounded frazzled and angry and said he’d take care of it.

Peering from the peep hole in my door, I watched as the clerk came up to break up the party. People were actually smoking and drinking beer in the hallway, the doors to their rooms were open, music was playing from tinny motel room radios, and there was much loud conversation. The desk clerk was nearly screaming at them, like a parent or a chaperone on a school trip: “Go back in your rooms and go to sleep! It’s 3:20 in the morning. Guests are complaining. There is no beer drinking in the public area of the hotel. There is no smoking in the hallways!” I then heard a flippant guy say, “Where does it say that? We don’t have a non-smoking room.”, to which the clerk had to explain that having a smoking room does not mean one can smoke in the hallways.
Finally by 3:45 or so, people quieted down and I fell asleep, but on a night when I really needed to get a good night’s rest, sleep was denied to me.

Sunday was one of the only sunny days I had in Alaska and I really just spent the afternoon doing a little shopping, some hiking, and a lot of watching the fish from one of the many bridges over the creek. Looking out at the creek or the inlets it appears that the surface is effervescent – like a giant glass of champagne, because there are so many salmon swimming around, their little shark-like top fins breaking the surface of the water, and almost every 3 or 4 seconds an 18” long salmon literally leaps a foot or two out of the water. There were hundreds of them. It was really amazing to watch. I had a farewell dinner at a restaurant on the water, dining on more of the delicious wild Coho salmon… and believe it or not, even though I was seated 3 feet from the dessert tray the whole time, I declined on dessert. I’ve actually been losing a little weight these last couple of weeks… probably due to walking a lot more, snacking all day on fresh blueberries and raspberries, and not having dessert at night. Pants that were not fitting a few weeks ago are comfortable again.

And now it was 8:00 PM and I had 7 hours to kill before my ferry departed for Canada. What to do? The ferry ride would be 6.5 hours long and I would not be in a cabin, so sleep would be hard to come by – though perhaps easier than at the Ketchikan Super 8! Once I arrived in Prince Rupert, Canada I’d have a 7 – 8 hour drive to Prince George. I needed rest. So I drove out to a remote park on a lake. There were very private little pull-in picnic areas that offered a lot of privacy, so I pulled into one and tried to have a few hours nap. Of course every time I’d be almost asleep, kids would wander by and scream at one another, or idiots would peel out and blow their horns and I would startle awake. It was almost comical; I’m in the wilds of Alaska and I can’t find a quiet place to just rest and have a nap undisturbed!

I went to the ferry terminal around 11:30 PM and I did catch an hour or two of sleep in the car there before we boarded at 2:30AM. I brought a pillow and warm sweatshirt on board with me and managed to find a chaise lounge in which I probably slept 3 hours. And that was it… Debarked at Prince Rupert, BC at 10:30AM (it took an hour to unload all the cars from the ferry) and I hit the highway heading south and east toward Prince George and Vancouver. I had filled up with gas in Ketchikan for a mere $2.41 a gallon, hoping that would get me a good long way through Canada before I had to fill up there, with their high prices. Canadian Radio was back, unfortunately:

“Today my guest will talk to us about some of the very interesting plaques that can be found around the province of British Columbia. If you have a favorite plaque, call in and tell us about it”. I longed to hear Dr. Laura nagging at someone because they were “shacking up” with their boyfriend.

The scenery was pretty… more pretty scenery. Hundreds of miles of pretty scenery, and lots of mist and drizzle. I finally found a country music radio station and really had a ball listening to songs from the 80s and 90s that I’d loved and danced to in my “Urban Cowboy” days in L.A. I heard many new artists and songs that I liked a lot. Country music is a great travel companion; for me it was a comforting old friend and it kept me awake till I got to Prince George at 8:00 PM. I had dinner at a pretty average restaurant, and stayed at a pretty average Travelodge, and slept about 7 hours. I needed to hit the highway again by 7:00 AM if I were going to make the 10.5 hour long drive to Vancouver and get in at a decent time.

I’d found a great hotel deal at a very cheap price over the internet, so my stay in Vancouver was very pleasant; I was on the 16th floor and my room faced east, and clear as a bell from my balcony I could see snow-capped Mount Baker, about 50 miles away in Washington state, the first of the dangerous Cascade volcanoes. Disasterman was getting closer to home! I had a great swim in one of the hotel’s three pools and then I amused myself watching Indian music videos on TV for awhile. (There is a large Asian Indian population in Vancouver).The lyrics are provided in subtitles, and almost every video focuses on a beautiful young woman being courted by a handsome young man, who chases her and dances around her as she plays hard to get and a multitude of dancers watch the action. The lyrics were hilarious and I wondered how close these subtitle translations were to the real lyrics or whether they reflected terrible mistakes in translation:

Man: “You are like a glistening fruit in the garden and I must pick you”.
Woman: “No, no… you cannot taste the fruit. You are the chill of my cucumber!”

Of course they always get together by the end of the video.

I had a wonderful, multi-course Lebanese meal with another interesting internet acquaintance I’d made, named Majid. He was born and raised in Lebanon, but is a Canadian citizen now and has lived in Canada for 20 years. It was fascinating talking with him about the world situation. He and his family were forced to hide in the hills of Lebanon many years ago during the Syrian occupation. They are now overjoyed that Syria is withdrawing from Lebanon and he just returned home for his first visit in many years. He said that in Lebanon it is common knowledge that the weapons we were searching for in Iraq went to Syria and Iran in the weeks and months before we got there. “Your country should never trust Syria. It is one of the most dangerous places on the earth!” He works in advertising and media, and it was also interesting to hear his research about how American and Canadian values are diverging. Ads that are designed for a Canadian audience rarely work in America and vice versa. He said, “We assume that our two countries are very much alike, but there are very big differences in the way we think”. I’d have to agree. I don’t think the show on interesting plaques would go over well in Boston or San Francisco!

I slept late on Wednesday morning and then did a little more sightseeing around Vancouver, stopping at an establishment called Death by Chocolate before hitting the road. I stopped at roadside stands in Canada and Washington to get boxes of fresh raspberries, strawberries, blueberries and blackberries and munched on them all day as I drove. Had a very quick border crossing back into the U.S. and continued south, aiming for Portland that night. As bad luck would have it, I drove into a heat wave: Seattle was 96 degrees! Passing Seattle was a traffic nightmare. I got to Everett, WA around 3:20 PM, and hoped I was in time to avoid rush hour, but I soon drove into a twisted mass of traffic that snaked along at 10 miles and hour for miles. I hopped off onto side roads, I tried to take freeways that would loop around the city… to no avail. Gridlock. It took 2.5 hours to get the 35 miles or so between Seattle and Tacoma. If I had to do that every day, I would be in a nut house talking about half-cats and plaques. I don’t know how people cope with it. The only consolation was that good-old volcanic Mt. Rainier was looming to the east, absolutely covered in snow and looking ominously close. I wanted to get a picture of the gridlocked traffic with Rainier in the background, but not sure if I was successful.

I didn’t get to Portland till almost 9:00 PM, and just collapsed, but I planned to spend two nights there and had a very nice motel room with high speed internet, 78 cable channels on TV, a very refreshing pool (Portland was also 96 degrees), and a QUIET 3rd floor room. I never heard a sound from any other rooms. I slept in till almost 10:00 and then brought the car in for its THIRD maintenance service since I left home in June! The Honda dealership in Portland was great. They squeezed me in even though I didn’t have an appointment, and they gave me complimentary tickets to ride the light rail system into downtown Portland and have lunch. I really like Portland and with my upcoming research work at Mt. Rainier, it seems I’ll have more chances to explore the place. Their light rail system is amazing – so clean and quiet, and cheap. In fact to ride around in the main downtown area there is no charge at all. Free, clean, safe mass transit! What a concept! I did have to laugh as I rode downtown. An athletic man of maybe 50 years old got onboard with his bike, and as the train continued, he set the kick stand on his bike and began turning the poles and bars that people who are standing up usually hold on to into his own personal gym. He did pull ups, he did strange vertical push ups. I was tempted to make a loud public announcement that aerobics classes would be starting in 5 minutes in Car #2! I am always amazed by how un-self-conscious people can be in public.

At any rate, after a great lunch, I returned to get my car and was assured it was ready for the road again. I told the woman at the service desk about my trip, and said, “after all that driving I am afraid I’ve worn my poor car out! (It’s not even a year old yet). She looked at me over her glasses and said, “Sir, it’s a Honda. You CAN’T wear them out”. I then took it to a carwash where layers of mud and dust were peeled away, restoring it to its shiny self. Got all my photos developed (and saved money on the developing since there are no state sales taxes in Oregon), had a relaxing swim to recover from the heat, and dined on an amazing fish and chips at a British pub. It couldn’t have been a more pleasant day.

Morning came too soon for my liking – I could have spent a whole day in bed or in the pool – and I went to my favorite restaurant in Portland for Wild Salmon Hash & Eggs before filling up with gas and heading south on I – 5. Terrible traffic around each of Oregon’s major cities – Salem, Eugene, Medford – slowed my progress, but thank God, Dr. Laura was on the airwaves to keep me company. Gas, which had been $2.42 a gallon in Oregon was $2.75 a gallon as I entered California. Welcome home! The temperature at Redding was 107 degrees, but by the time I reached San Francisco it was 57 degrees! My friends Gail and Chrissy waited dinner for me, and I reached their place in San Rafael a little after 9:00 PM, dining on organic chicken, organic corn, organic summer squash and organic tomatoes… they wanted to make sure I knew I was back in Marin County! It was delicious and much welcomed, as after the salmon hash, all I’d eaten were raspberries and blackberries for the rest of the day! I took a relaxing swim in their 90 degree pool, marveling at the brilliance of the stars above and realizing that I’d really never seen the stars at all in Alaska and Canada; it rained too much. So somehow it was an ironic twist of fate for me to lie in the warm water and look up to see the Big Dipper – featured on the Alaska state flag – shining brightly above me. I will think of Alaska now whenever I see it. And then I drove the last 20 miles across a fog shrouded Golden Gate Bridge, arriving home at 11:30 PM.

And so another epic journey is over. All in all, I drove a total of 14,000 miles: the equivalent of two round-trip journeys across country and then going 2/3 of the way back again! Just the drive from where I left the Alaska ferry to San Francisco was almost 2,000 miles… that’s how far north I was! I do not want to even think about how much money I spent on gas. But I am not sorry I did it, because with the state of the world and the economy and gas prices, who knows if I’ll be able to do it again. While I liked Alaska and am glad I finally have seen it, it is not a place that will call to me in the future, and that is somewhat of a relief, since Hawaii, New England, Italy, Sydney, New Zealand, Paris, New York City, Utah and many other places call to me all the time as it is! I would be interested in flying to Anchorage sometime and renting a car to explore that area, but I have no desire to ever drive Canada’s Alaska Highway again! Sick as this sounds, I could, if I had any room on the credit cards left, get back in the car and head back out across the country again. The United States is an amazing place. The vast majority of its people are friendly, well-meaning, good folks. The scenery is spectacular. If you can turn a blind eye to the McDonalds and the Wendys, there are terrific local treasures to be found in every part of the country. And the freedom of being out on the road, wandering from place to place, seeing friends and family along the way is truly my ideal vacation. I worry about the changes and the dangers that I believe we are facing in the not-too-distant future in this country and I wonder if things will always be the same, or I should say, “I wonder how much things will change”, because of course, they are changing all the time.

Thank you to all of you I visited with and who shared your hospitality and time with me. Thanks to those of you who wrote e-mails and called me – it helped in some of the lonely times when I really felt like I was at the edge of the world. And thanks to those of you who enthusiastically read all these personal accounts and vicariously shared my adventures with me. All of you, all I’ve seen and done, make me feel truly blessed.

Love,

MATT