I slept in today, in my nice comfy hotel bed. I checked
my emails then packed up my stuff. I had 3 of the breakfast bars I had
packed for the Deadhorse trip for breakfast. It started raining while I was
packing the bikeÖ bring it on.
I got gas and headed south for Anchorage. My plan was to spend some time at Denali
State Park. I wanted to take a tour, but I
didnít get there till 3:30 or so, and man are these tours long. They range
from 4 hours to over 13 hours! I didnít want to take any piddly 4 hour tour,
so I put this on my list for the next
trip I make.
I got lots of pictures this time. If you
remember, the batteries died on me from Anchorage
to Fairbanks. Well I charged
em up real good for the Fairbanks to Anchorage leg. I snapped
quite a few in the mountain valley near Cantwell. What a beautiful place. I
also stopped at both the North, and South, viewing stations for
Denali, but the mountain was clouded over. While at the South
viewing station for Denali I ran into the Harley rider that I met in Coldfoot.
They were flying to Nome, AK in the morning to check out western Alaska. I informed them of my plans to take
the ferry south to Bellingham,
WA, then ride back home across the
lower 48. We said goodbye and wished each other well.
It was getting late in the day, I guess
this tends to happen when you donít leave until noon. As it was already
nearing 5:00 I decided to ditch my
plans and camp in Talkeetna for the night. Talkeetna is right next to
Trapper Creek, about 3 miles or so away. But the only way to get there is on
the Talkeetna spur road. To get to the spur road you have to go 14 miles
south down the highway, hit the spur road, then 14 miles back north to
Talkeetna. But I figured it was worth it.
It wasnít. While the town was cool, there
was no where to camp or get a room. What a waste of a half hour. I decided I
would at least mail a post card from here as I had forgotten to in Fairbanks
and Coldfoot. I got to the post office and it was closed. No biggie, I have
stamps and post cards with me. So I go in to fill some out, and there are no
pens, anywhere. Itís a post office! You go there for letters, that people
write, with pens, and they have no pens! Needless to say, I have vowed to
pick me up a pen.
Now that my Talkeetna run was a complete
wash, I decided to push on farther south, but stop short of
and spend the night in Wasilla rather than camp at the Ghetto RV Park again.
It started raining on the Talkeetna spur road and didnít stop all the way to
Wasilla. I didnít feel like pitching my tent in the rain, so I got a room at
the Best Western.
When I checked into the hotel I used my
debit card. It happens to say
on the front. The front desk girl told me her manager was from TN and asked
if I was really from there as well. I said I was. She got her manager to
come out to the desk. It turns out heís from
Murfreesboro. Talk about a small world. So far in
Iíve met people from Hermitage, Green Hills, and now Murfreesboro. He told me to go down to the Kenai Peninsula to check out one of the tours. A guy he
knows from Belle Meade runs the business there. After I checked in I went to
my room, ordered some pizza (if you couldnít tell, I like pizza), watched
Independence Day on TV, and went to bed.