highs & lows in alaska
Dates: August 27, 2022 - September 4 , 2022
Distance: 350 mi / 563 km
Route: Hope > Palmer > Tolsona > Glennallen > Paxson Lake
Feelings of Home
It’s interesting, and sometimes surprising, to notice what brings up feelings of home when you’re living on the road full-time. With your surroundings constantly changing around you, you begin to notice more acutely what kinds of things illicit feelings of comfort and belonging. It can be a song, a friendly stranger, snuggling with your pets, a phone call with loved a one, being present and mindful in beautiful natural spaces, or even a gas station snack (e.g. Hostess powdered donuts remind me of my uncle Big Mark).
After making our way back towards Anchorage, we ran all the errands (showers at Planet Fitness, laundry, package pick-ups, grocery shopping, Costco gas, etc.) and met up with our friends Andy and Nadeesha. Getting out of the truck to give them hugs in the UPS parking lot, I felt that tinge of ‘home.’
Andy and Nadeesha–aka @4funnervibes on IG–have also recently embarked on their own Pan-American journey in their Toyota 4Runner with a rooftop tent, and they were on their way out of Alaska when our paths finally crossed. We haven’t been friends for very long, but things just clicked from the beginning (as if we were dating). We spent several nights camping together at the Northwest Overland Rally earlier this year, cementing the courtship of our friendship. We feel really comfortable with them and enjoy spending time together, so much so that we had been telling quite a few people we were thinking about doing the Pan-American with Andy and Nadeesha before we even mentioned it to them–we wanted to tell them in person!
Fun fact: Andy is the brother of our close friend, Nick, who connected us when he realized we had similar travel goals. We first met them at Overland Expo West in 2021, and reunited for the Northwest Overland Rally in 2022. We’re crossing our fingers that Nick will fly to meet up with us at some point on the way!
Thankfully they were as glad to hear the news as we were to share it when we told them “so, we’ve kind of been telling people we’re going to travel with you to Argentina…”
We don’t expect to caravan together everyday, but we’ll be meeting up along the way and traveling together as much as possible. Not only will their impeccable planning and cooking skills be put to good use, but when you find people that help make you feel at home in this lifestyle, it’s usually a good idea to keep them close by if you can.
Sitting outside, cupping hot chocolate and tea in our hands as the temperature dropped slowly and yellow leaves fell to the ground, we caught up with each other, and the conversation flowed as steadily as the river we were camped beside.
Lazy Mountain Brewing Company
The following day we were in for quite a treat. Through a personal connection, Andy was able to line up a private tour of Lazy Mountain Brewing Co., a home-based operation with no tap room or regular tours. Having no idea what to expect, we followed the 4Runner down a residential driveway, where we were greeted enthusiastically by a flock of turkeys, a fellow wirehaired pointing griffon (WPG), and a beautiful black horse, just hanging out in the driveway. This is going to be interesting, we thought.
Neil greeted us in the driveway and we bonded quickly over our love of our WPGs and German Shepherds (GSDs) as he introduced us to his young GSD, Petra, and their older griff, Petey. Apparently Neil has always named his dogs ‘Pete,’ regardless of their sex, which we found so quirky and fun. When they got the German Shepherd, he wanted to name her ‘Pete’ too, but since their current Petey is still alive, his daughter insisted that might be too confusing, so he went with the variation of “Petra.”
We followed Neil a few steps to the outbuilding where his brewing magic happens. It was a relatively small space with the fermentation tanks packed tightly together, taking up most of the interior space. The four of us squeezed in around Neil, his wife Sarah joined later, and listened to the ins and outs of his meticulous operation while sampling the delicious beer straight from the tanks.
Once the tour concluded, Neil lit a bonfire and offered us more drinks, alcoholic and non. Captivated by their lives in Alaska and their fascination in our travels gave us all plenty to talk about. We learned that they had met each other while working in wildfire response teams in Alaska–Neil was a pilot and Sarah provided logistical support for the response teams. “I had such a huge crush on him back then,” Sarah confided with a grin.
The party migrated over to Sarah’s impressive garden where she educated us on the fruits of her labor and offered delicious samples of her own: wax beans, celery, deep purple beet leaves, peas, and cilantro. Standing in the middle of her garden, eating straight from the plants was so inspiring–what an incredible life these folks are living. Hard work, dedication, and reverence for the earth and her gifts is as fundamental to them as the blood running through their veins. They’re happy, full of life and have created such a lovely home in their close-knit community.
This is Spiffy, the coolest and most sociable horse in town.
It’s moments like these when we feel a longing for something similar–to live with the land, to be part of and contribute to a community, and have space to nurture ourselves and those we love. This is possible while living on the road, in one form or another, but it’s different. It’s like we crave two opposite things. One, to be grounded and rooted in a home and community, and the other, to be constantly moving and experiencing new cultures, seeing new places, and gaining the life experience and wisdom that travel inevitably provides. Time will tell how we learn to balance these two competing desires.
When we finally left our new friends with a few six-packs in tow three hours after we had arrived, we knew we had just had a special experience–it’s like we got to meet the Alaskan spirit in human-form, and we’re all the richer for it.
That night Nadeesha prepared possibly the best meal we’ve ever had at camp–Sri Lankan chicken curry and lentils, seasoned with her aunt’s personal blend of spices. It’s important to note here that we have Andy to thank for the plentiful shallots in the curry, which contributed significantly to the tastiness of the meal (inside joke alert).
After another slow morning of enjoying our coffee together by the river, we hugged each other tightly, promised to see each other soon, and hit the road. Feeling happy and refreshed after our time with Andy and Nadeesha, we had no idea that we were heading into the least fun part of our entire time in Alaska.
Covid Strikes Again
The sun was shining and we had an incredibly beautiful drive ahead of us heading west out of Palmer on the Glenn Highway. We listened to Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone while taking in the view and signs of early fall. When the Matanuska Glacier came into view, we stopped to snap photos and thought of our ferry ship, which was named the Matanuska.
It wasn’t long after leaving Andy and Nadeesha that Mike began to notice he wasn’t feeling too well. He had an annoying headache he couldn’t shake and a slightly sore neck. He insisted on driving, so he would have something to focus on, and we continued towards our dispersed campsite for the night. It was a small spot right next to a side road, but the fall colors were in full swing and the view between the trees was stunning.
The original plan was to head to Valdez where we wanted to do an all-day boat tour of wildlife and glaciers in the area, but since Mike still wasn’t feeling well the next day, we decided to post up for a while to limit our interaction with others while we waited out whatever sickness he was dealing with. With a mask and freshly sanitized hands, I did a grocery run to stock up on food, as we didn’t know how long we would be isolating for.
We found an empty campground for $12 a night where we could hunker down and have access to a pit toilet in case Mike’s developing illness deemed it critically necessary. It was Monday, the second day of Mike’s symptoms, and he tested negative for covid that morning, but we knew it was still possible that this was in fact covid.
The following day (Tuesday), Mike was feeling worse and tested positive for covid.
If you’re familiar with the inner workings of our daily lives, you know that I rely on Mike quite a bit. He does the grocery shopping, exercising Granger, and just about anything else that requires even slight physical exertion. For example, when we got to camp we had a discussion about whether or not I should make the short walk uphill to pay our camping fee, because we didn’t know if it would be too much for me to handle (hills are rough). This is why having an e-bike is useful, but it requires some digging to get my bike out of the truck-bed storage, which can be tiresome for me, and is why Mike usually handles getting the bike out for me… But Mike was sick and needed to rest.
So with this one simple example, you can imagine how Mike getting sick imposed all kinds of worries, feelings and mental dilemmas. More than anything, I wanted to be able to care for him the way he does for me every single day. I didn’t want him to have to do anything but rest. But I didn’t know if I was capable of handling everything on my own without exacerbating my condition, on top of being fearful about catching covid myself and how it might further impact my chronic long covid.
My mind was reeling, but surprisingly, I was feeling ok emotionally. We don’t think we’ve had covid since May of 2020, when I developed long covid and our lives were significantly altered, and I always thought I would completely freak out when I got it again. But alas, that wasn’t the case.
We took it one day at a time, and focused on the things we could control. Tuesday was Mike’s worst day. He had a fever, headache, chills, felt tired and sore, and had cold-like symptoms. He stayed in bed all day while I managed the animals, meals and worked on editing a video while thankfully still feeling well myself. The following day, he was feeling a bit better. I felt good in the morning but then noticed a tickle in my throat, and by the afternoon I was achy and feverish, and felt pain throughout my body (ankles, knees, hips, wrists, elbows). This was the worst night for me, and since Mike was doing a bit better, he tapped in on the caregiving.
Since having long covid, I have chest pain from time to time, but that night I experienced the worst chest pain I’ve ever had. It was deep, acute bursts of pain that ran up my neck and into my jaw. Telling Mike about this, he decided to share that he had had similar chest pains the night before, but didn’t tell me because he didn’t want to worry me, which I most certainly would have done. So maybe he had a point, but I was still annoyed, in a loving kind of way.
We spent six nights at Paxson Lake Campground. Later in the week we were joined by a few fellow campers, so we diligently sanitized the bathroom after each use (i.e. wiping the toilet seat and door handle with hand sanitizer), but we don’t think anyone was actually using the same bathroom as us.
We had hoped to spend this time in the beautiful area of Valdez, spotting whales breaching in the water and getting up close and personal to some glaciers (which we never actually did during our time in Alaska), but we made do with our circumstances. College football was kicking off, so we reinstated our YouTube TV subscription and watched the season openers for Penn State (Mike’s team) and Ohio State (my team) from bed. We read books, rested, snuggled with the animals, apologized to Granger profusely for the lack of exercise, and watched movies we had downloaded.
By Saturday Mike was feeling significantly better, and we had no signs of fevers since Thursday. I was on the mend as well, but still feeling awfully weak. This bout of covid was not nearly as bad as my first round with it back in 2020. The fact that I wasn’t severely fatigued, nor had any significantly worsened long covid symptoms, was beyond pleasantly surprising.
Covid can pose a very serious threat, even to those who are unsuspecting of their own vulnerability, like young, healthy people. Mike and I are all too aware of the risks associated with the virus, and it was scary being confronted with it again. We’ve continued to take precautions in our daily lives, but on occasion, we also knowingly take on added risk, like recently hanging out indoors for live music and drinks in the small town of Hope. We all have to find a balance that we’re comfortable with, and that’s something that Mike and I talk about and reevaluate on an ongoing basis.
By Sunday we felt it was safe (for us and others) to get back on the road, while still taking reasonable precautions such as wearing masks and hand sanitizing like crazy. We stocked up on food, as we had eaten through most of our supplies, and headed towards Denali National Park via the Denali Highway. Feeling grateful for the acute illness being behind us without causing too much harm, we’re crossing our fingers for no soon-to-be-discovered long-term effects (at least no negative ones… we would gladly accept it improving or curing my long covid).
