This is Howie Doit

Day 15 -- A few oberservations...

Made it to Anchorage a full 26 hours before Cindy's arrival at the airport.  My adrenalin level is definitely lower now that the deadline has been met.  So, for today's blog, I'll mellow out a little and just offer a few tidbits to help you relate to the Alaskan experience.

Gas costs $3.78 per gallon here in Anchorage.  A hamburger at the little Alcan roadside stops like Buckshot Betty's will set you back $7.00 to $11.00.  It's more fun if you order a carribou burger or a hallibut burger, and it usually gets a chuckle out of the waitress when you point on the menu to that last choice and say, "I'll have one of these, just for the hallibut".

I did not see one RCMP trooper or local policeman on the entire Alaksa-Canada highway. Mostly the vehicles you see are eighteen wheel trucks or motorhomes.  So, the highway pretty much dictates the speed, rather than posted limits.  However, at a little roadside gas stop near  Kluane Lake, a reduced speed limit of 60 km (36 mph) was posted.  Why anyone felt compelled to establish that speed limit for three blocks is beyond imagination, but to insure its observance, this billboard was constructed at the edge of "town".

You've got to admit that from a distance it does look alot like a Royal Canadian Mounted Policeman's vehicle running radar.  I spun around to get a picture of it and had to laugh as I saw one motorhome after another's brake lights illuminate.  I watched at least ten drivers slam on their binders.  Of course, moments earlier, I was one of them doing just the same.

Motorhome or camper is by far the best mode of transportation for touring the interior of Alaska.  Number one, no pun intended, you always have a bathroom nearby.  And gas stations are often fifty or more miles apart.  Secondly, the rustic little roadside cabins along the routes are generally not of the Comfort Inn/Hampton Inn quality to which we lower 48'ers have grown accustomed.  And thirdly, you'll save a bundle on food by cooking your own meals or just snacking.  Lucille was born for just such a trip as this.

Speaking of cooking your own meals, take a look at some perfect french toast and a latte:

which is a testament to the adage "The second time's a charm" or  "Even a blind squirrel gets a nut now and then."  The couple I asked to take the picture of me enjoying brunch was from Germany and they were traveling back to Anchorage after touring Alaska by motorhome.  "You're from Tennessee, in the U. S., I see", the gentleman stated.  I asked him if he knew where that was.  "Oh yes...", he replied, "Tennessee... Davy Crocket."

They have to be this big (36 to 48 inches in diameter) to work properly this far north.  And you need to point them almost straight out.

In the mountains on the drive to Alaska, the temperature today was 45 degrees at noon and it was misting. 

But at anchorage, it was sunny and 68 at 4:30 pm.  It's been raining for 31 straight days here in Anchorage.  But, just as I'm pulling into town, it's breaking up.  Great timing.

Saw my first glacier on this morning's drive.  Picture doesn't do it justice.  The ice was a brilliant blueish color.

I've only seen four or five other Born Free'ers on this trip.  But there is a genuine bond between us.  All have walked up to me at gas stops or campsites to chat and exchange road war stories.  They are quite surprised when I tell them that I grew up in the town where they are built.

"You want outdoor seating... We've got your outdoor seating.   Take that, Starbucks.

 A drive-through, you say?  Not a problem, eh?  Just pull 'er around to the other side and stop at the first window.

What do you think this junk heap of a building sells?

How does the road crew know where the edge of the road is when there's ten feet of snow on the ground?  By the twelve foot high markers spaced every 20 feet.  (Squint and you can see one).

And finally... you get alot of mail?  Not a problem, eh?  Just find an old barrel and hook 'er up to the mailpost.  

That's what your neighbor did...

It's just been one day that I've been in Alaska, but from the observations thus far, I'm really liking the place and anxiously awaiting Cindy's arrival tomorrow evening. An adventure like this should be shared with one's spouse. Six days from now, we'll see how two people enjoy living together in a 22 foot motorhome for six days. I'm sure it'll be great. Not a problem, eh?