Wrapping-up Alaska, part 1

Yeah, I’m slow. I’ve taken up Sudoku, and I occasionally mutter to myself that I might developmentally delayed as I play. I love playing with Jared bc he catches my mistakes (“there’s no 8 there.”) and every time I get stuck he provides a number that jump-starts me again. He’s tried doing crosswords with me, but I am completely hopeless with any game involving words. Sudoku is a good compromise.

Anyway, I have one more story from our trip to Alaska and then some plugs. Jared’s parents kindly delivered us to Bellingham on the day of our ferry’s departure. It was a long drive and enormously generous of them to take us all that way. I had found a nice little 12-speed Peuget bicycle, but Jared didn’t have one yet. He arranged to meet a guy he’d found thru craigslist with a Specialized Hybrid for sale. It was fortunate that we were able to take care of that business at the last minute. A planner thru-and-thru, I felt anxious about this purchase not happening until hours before we left on the boat.

Jared’s parents unloaded us onto an industrial sidewalk, and I felt another pang of anxiety. If the parents leave, who will take care of us? At that moment, I felt like an 8-year old. I don’t know if anyone noticed my eyes filling with tears. When I told Jared later about this thought, he was a little offended. Didn’t I trust him to take care of us? How like a man.

The ferry was fantastic, and, as I mentioned before, I could happily live on one for quite a while. We had a couple days to read thru guidebooks and decide where we’d get off. I’d bought the ticket to Wrangell, but we talked ourselves into changing the first stop to Petersburg. Changing the ticket was easy, and didn’t cost much more. I was surprised.

The sun was setting when we disembarked in Petersburg, and immediately it began to rain. We’d asked a guy on the boat for directions, and began racing down one of the town’s few roadways in the wrong direction. About 20 minutes later, another guy we’d met on the boat pulled over in his truck next to us – it was dark and a little scary until we figured out we knew him – it turned out that 1) we were going the wrong way (as I mentioned) and 2) the campground was closed. He suggested we camp illegally (and even had a spot picked out for us), but after heading back into town (it was getting quite late!) I cast a strong vote for camping at the divvy RV park in town.

The RV park was incredibly muddy, and imbedded in the mud was broken glass (and who knows what else – used syringes?). The shared bathroom was dirty and broken. Some down-and-out souls lived there, either in their RVs or, in some unfortunate cases, in tents with various contraptions elevating and sheltering them from the constant rain. I tried to imagine how a person could fall on so much bad luck as to live here, and I could only think that mental illness or substance abuse must be involved. One man lived next to our tent with a whole little set up, and while he sat a few feet from us the entire evening, he just stared off into the corner. I was surprised when he responded in normal-sounding English when we asked him a question.

We woke up before daybreak and broke camp never tracking down our landlords to pay the $5 we owed them for sleeping there, criminals already so early in our vacation. I don’t know if it was the weather or my mood, but the supposedly-pretty and pleasant town seemed more sad to me. We had a “real” breakfast by the boats (there was only one possible place) and killed some time before the Ranger’s office opened. The plan was to find out about available cabins in the area.

This story is already way too long, and I haven’t even gotten to the point yet. I guess I’ll go ahead and post this in hopes of writing the rest later.