A Few Adventures in Not Having a Car

The destination was Fairbanks, 120 miles away from Healy, and I had the day off and some errands to run. I grabbed the old guitar I was hoping to fix up and an empty backpack and left the house around 10 a.m. After two rides, the longer of which with a package delivery guy, I got dropped off in the city around 1:30 p.m. on the opposite side of town from where I needed to go. I thought, I could try to hitch a ride, or without a car, I can be alright with hiking a few miles when necessary and not bother anyone else. Grass roots guitar was my first stop where I picked up a new nut and a package of light strings. Next was dinner at a local bakery restaurant, followed by a visit to Home Depot to shop for materials for my boat. Finally, I went to the Safeway and filled up my backpack full of non-perishables and went looking for a good spot to try to hitch back. Where I hoped to hitch from was no good, so I decided to walk back to where I got dropped off. After getting a little lost and doing some backtracking, I made it back to where I started, waited a bit then caught a ride to the next small town, then another one all the way back to Healy, finally getting home about 12:30 a.m. Total hitching distance, about 240 miles. Total walking distance around Fairbanks, about 15 miles. Check out my course.


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Last week I needed to get back to the house for a three o'clock tour after spending the morning down in the canyon. The first van that passed picked me up. It was a friend who worked at the bar who was going on a hike before work, and could only take me about halfway. I got out with her at the trail head and continued down the highway, thinking it wouldn't be a problem to catch a ride from there. Was I ever wrong. No one would pick me up, and realizing I was now going to be late, I started jogging along the side of the road with my two bags of expired potato chips I just got for free from the local store. Six miles later I arrived at the house barely on time just to find out my coworker was going to take the tour instead of me. A frustrating lack of communication on my part.

These two stories are accompanied by the daily routine of figuring out shuttle times, and free bus trips, and using anything lying around the house like bikes and scooters to get where I want to go. Cars are definitely convenient, but necessary? No. Regardless of location, I think if you begin a new lifestyle without a car, you'd be able to make adjustments and do alright without one. If you've become accustomed to having one for so long then I think it'd be mighty difficult to give it up and try to go without one. I know it'd be extremely challenging to do in Southern California, I just don't like hearing people say it'd be impossible.

Dragonfly Creek

I joined a friend on a little hike down Dragonfly Creek the other evening. The weather was just about perfect, and the low sun filled the canyon with such warm light. We explored around a few waterfalls, past a fun little beehive, and down to the fast flowing Nenana River. Hopping along the rocks and making our own trail when the bank became to steep, we hiked along the river until we were underneath Windy Bridge, sat ourselves down on a rock, enjoyed a beer each, and waved to rafters as they passed. It was an impromptu little trip and was ever so satisfying.





Now here's just a random thought for the day, with not the slightest correlation to Dragonfly Creek, that I would love someone to explain to me. It's a simple concept that I just can't seem to grasp. It's nothing new. Statistics are different all over the internet depending on who did what study and when it was conducted, but generally speaking the U.S. contains five percent of the world's population and consumes about thirty percent of the world's resources (energy, water, food, forests, etc.). I think we've all heard these statistics before and are fully aware of them, but why do we conveniently ignore them without feeling any motivation to alter our lifestyles. Where do we get off continually consuming more then our fair share just because everyone else around us is doing it? That's just speaking about people in general. Now take the religious person who claims to live selflessly and beyond materialism, and they should be called to live to an even greater extreme when it comes to contrasting consumerism, right? Yet often times referring to their lives as "blessed" allows them to live extravagantly. Now I'm obviously typing this on a computer meaning I'm not living the simplest life I can, but I feel like there should be such a greater urgency and heated discussion with regards to why we feel entitled to have whatever we can get our hands on. If someone could explain to me the numbness and complacency towards these facts I would be ever grateful.

Sunshine.

Ah. After a week straight of cloudy days, cold temperatures, and tours in the rain, I walked outside this morning after a full sleep and was surprised by overwhelming sunshine and big white happy clouds. Nothing seemed just except to sit at a picnic table and do nothing but take it in. Now to seize it more, I'm off to the lake and my boat to catch up on reading, relax, and practice a little guitar in the open air. The song that kept coming to mind this morning and a good representation of the mood I'm in would be John Denver's Sunshine on my Shoulder. Listen to it and understand. Hope today is good to you.

I Have a Boat

Last year there was this old metal tin, painted red boat sitting in the water down at the lake shore. Filled with water and fall leaves, I wished I had more time and the okay to try to fix it up and take it out on the lake. This year, I had both. And now I have a boat to explore all of the inlets and shorelines of this here Otto Lake. It's maiden voyage consisted of me standing in the back with a long piece of driftwood, pushing off the shallow lake bottom as far out as I could go seeing if it could hold off water. Then my boss and I got a beautifully silent trolly motor for it and a spare paddle. It's been my companion in enjoying midnight sunsets and exploring beaver ponds in far corners and discovering private sections of the lake and choosing to paddle back in the dark instead of using the motor. I think tonight calls for another adventure in it.

Last September

This summer, the first trip with the new (used) motor

Besides that I've fixed up an old guitar that was living in the garage when I got here. I'm slowly learning chords and practicing them on slower Iron and Wine songs. People are intriguing me more and more each day. Future plans shift from one hour to the next. I took a family from Ecuador on a tour yesterday, and after getting over myself, I attempted broken conversations in Spanish with the grandpa and two young boys. I decided I want to go to South America as soon as I can. Then last night a friend said she was looking for a travel buddy to volunteer at an orphanage in Africa for a few months next spring, and as of now nothing seems like a better thing to spend the money I've been making up here on. Friends are going to Vietnam to teach English for a year, or spending 6 months performing on a cruise ship between New Zealand and Australia. Meeting people brings inspirations and opportunities. Hooray for that.

More Lonesome A Capella

Last week kicked my butt. I ended up working about 50 hours, 20 of those on Saturday and Sunday with a middle of the night visit to the Anderson Music Festival between them. My reward come Sunday night was getting Monday off, but I couldn't just let a day off pass by without going and and doing something. I decided to climb Mt. Healy.



I got dropped off at the trail head around nine o'clock and scrambled up to the craggy summit just before noon. It was a beautiful day. I took a break along a grassy ridge to watch some Dall Sheep climb on a distant cliff, then continued up the mountain a bit more to find one on my trail. It stared at me blankly as I said hello and tried to persuade it nicely off the trail. Fortunately it listened and meandered down the hill away from me as I snapped this photo.



I wanted to find an alternate root down just to keep things interesting, so I went off the backside of Healy in search of a trail I'd heard connects to the park highway. There was no such trail. Instead, I found my way into a gorge I knew was feeding at least in the right direction.

The canyon flatted out and turned into a gentle creek bed, varying from just a few to fifteen feet wide and lined with heavy brush. The perfect environment for grizzlies and the worst place to run into them. There were bear prints and bear scat everywhere, and I was convinced I was a gonner. I sang the whole way down again, getting tired of songs I knew and creating originals. It was four o'clock by the time I finally saw telephone poles and electric wire in the distance, accompanied with the sound of busses on the park road. What comfort they brought. The solitude and serenity of marching through the flowing creek was too muffled by the paranoia of what was around the next bend. I won't be hiking alone again for a good while.

At the top, before the trek down

Yesterday morning I took out a couple from San Diego along with an office girl we just hired on our extended tour. It didn't feel like work. Then last night a few of us met up with that couple to enjoy all you can eat Salmon, ribs, mashed potatoes, and corn at a dinner theatre nearby on the house, with of course a hefty tip expected. Here's a look at a section of our extended trail, not a bad office to show up at every day huh?