Alaskan Pilgrimage: Back Where I Started (Days 20-22)

The next day I rode a bike several miles South looking for an Orthodox church, to no avail. I ended up at a church called Chapel by the Sea. It was pretty good, a missionary from Tibet spoke about the Christian coffee shops he and his wife are opening there and then a speaker talked about Scientology. I met a guy there from Oregon and he told me that when I went I need to go to Hillsboro, Stumptown Coffee, and Voodoo donuts. Another guy I met from Kodiak took me to the library afterwards.

My goal at the library was to print up some designs for a tattoo I had in mind and find a tattoo shop nearby. I had the idea of getting a bear paw tattoo for a while, but I wanted it to have a unique flair to it because it is sort of a generic tattoo. I found the flair I wanted from a hat Jake (the guy I camped with at Big Lake) was wearing. He had a hat with a wolf paw on it with an Alaska Native flair. So I printed up that design and a generic bear paw design and took them to Primal Instincts Tattoo parlor. While I waited for my appointment, I bought a homeless Inuit man some food and talked with him. He told me that his father had killed his mother while he was a child, that he was also a former Hell’s Angel member, and had only a few more months to live due to a chronic heart issue. I don’t think these were just ramblings of a crazy hobo because he got pretty emotional. He was also a Christian and so I tried to encourage him and comfort him. After my meal, I went back to Primal Instincts and my artist, Wild Will, drew up a design for me. I really liked it so I sat down with the apprehension of making a fairly permanent decision. Will was a cool guy from Norcal and we talked quite a bit about philosophy, spirituality, and other interesting topics — thankfully it wasn’t the usual tiresome small talk that happens at barber shops and such.

 

Now, a quick word about the tattoo. To me, this symbolizes 1) wildness/adventure 2) courage/warrior spirit. I didn’t get this because I think I’m a bad ass that embodies these qualities perfectly, as much as I am someone who wants to a life with these qualities, and this is a reminder — it’s also a reminder of my Alaskan adventure and I think it’s cool that I got it at a place called Primal Instincts by a guy named Wild Will. Bears are wild and strong, and I have similar feelings about bears and adventures. I want to see them, but I don’t. I like them, but they scare me.

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. The day after I wanted to go to the Alaska Native Heritage Center, but couldn’t find it. So I wandered around the city buying books and talking to homeless people and other strangers instead. I gave this one guy a few bucks outside of a gas station and started talking with him. He was a fairly educated guy who also used to be a contractor, but is an alcoholic living on the streets with his wife, who is an Alaska Native. He told me that his wife, who was on crack 20+ years was now clean and that they had mostly kicked hard liquor, but they were still maintenance drinkers on beer. He took me over to meet his wife and she was the prettiest homeless lady I’ve ever met– she was very nice too.  She kept asking me if I was on Valium or something, “why are you so peaceful?” I told her about Jesus as my spiritual high and medicine, and we did get to talk about God a bit. She kept coming back to thinking I was on Valium though. When I had talked about my past use of ecstasy she said, “Oh that’s what wrong with you.” I had to laugh at the irony of a woman who had been on crack for 20+ years saying that I had permafried my brain by using ecstasy once– it didn’t offend me or anything though. The guy went and puked because he said that he got sick when he didn’t drink –substances create a substance dependent homeostasis. They kept apologizing and I said, ” Don’t worry about me, I’m worried about you.” He cracked a Steel Reserve to settle his stomach. They told me of the hardships of homeless life — no place to stay, the cold, babysitting more dysfunctional drunks, relapsing due to being enmeshed in a homeless culture that has lots of alcohol in it. The woman almost cried as she spoke of how she was afraid of the coming winter. I really fell in love with these beautiful, jacked up people so I went back to my hostel, loaded up my pack with rain gear, sleeping bag, and some other miscellaneous stuff and gave it to them — I have both patted myself on the back and kicked myself in the butt for this.

I went back to the hostel and packed my  few remaining items into my 20L dry bag to prepare for my flight to Portland in the morning. These were my last moments in Alaska — back where I started at Spenard Hostel in Anchorage. I was ready to leave though, as much as I enjoyed it.

Alaskan Pilgrimage: Seward to Palmer (day one)

As my season with Kenai Fjords Tours drew to a close, I started to plan for my time trekking through Alaska. I had already bought a ticket from Anchorage to Portland for the 16th of September and my last day working was August 23rd. So that gave me about three weeks to travel Alaska. My original itinerary was very ambitious (and not really realistic). It consisted of hiking the Resurrection Pass trail from Sterling Highway to Hope (about 40 miles — I thought I could make some cool spiritual metaphor with the name, especially if I hiked it in three days and on the third day reached Hope), go from Hope to Anchorage, Anchorage to Palmer, Palmer to Glenallen, Glenallen to Fairbanks, Fairbanks to Deadhorse, back to Fairbanks, down the Parks highway to Denali, and finally end up in Anchorage.

My itinerary first changed when I decided to not hike Resurrection Pass, because it was pretty far for a solo hike. The day after I finished work I also felt like God wanted me to hang around Seward for a of couple days, which I didn’t really want to do, but I did. My pastor hooked me up with a ride to Anchorage with one of his coworkers on the 26th of August. So I got a free ride up there in a box truck and also stopped at Whittier on the way. I enjoyed hanging out with the guy who gave me a ride too. When I got to Anchorage I stopped into to Walmart to get some film, feeling quite absurd walking around with my big pack and walking stick. After Walmart I planned to go to Barnes and Nobles to get a book for the road, but couldn’t find the store. On the way I got to pray for a guy in a wheelchair who got in a car accident nothing– miraculous happened in that moment. This was also when I really noticed the neediness of Anchorage — countless homeless people and liquor stores. As I was walking around Anchorage, I saw a building that said something about the North Slope, the Arctic Borough where Deadhorse is located. Now, I felt that I might end up working at Deadhorse through the winter, I was drawn to it anyway, so I stopped in. Instead of getting a job at Deadhorse, I got a dead end. So I pressed on, heading towards Northeast Anchorage and the Glenn Highway.

Between the heat, my overloaded pack, and my out of shape body the walk through town was pretty brutal. I stopped at a gas station and put together one of my new delicacies — a peanut butter and brownie taco. My boss gave me a box of brownies for the road before I left. After my meal, I tried to talk to a guy about Jesus and then admired some Amanita Muscarias (which are ubiquitous in Anchorage) before getting back to my trek. A couple more miles and I ran into a guy on crutches who said he dropped sheet rock on his ankle. I prayed for him and asked him how he felt, and he said, “wow, better actually, how does that shit work?” I told him that Jesus died to heal our bodies and our souls and he left sort of abruptly. I don’t know if he was opposed to Jesus or just sort of freaked out by the whole thing. Later down the road I met an older  guy in a wheelchair panhandling. He was a Vietnam vet and kept saying “I made it home, but not all of them made it home” in a garbled, distressed voice. I gave him some brownies and told him I was sorry he had to go through that. Not that it helped much, but I really was sorry. That guy probably went into Vietnam when he was my age or younger and has been screwed up ever since over some stupid war, but that’s a whole other topic.

I walked another mile or so and stopped to rest in front of a gas station. There were a few homeless people hanging out there. A loud mouthed, confusing woman who perpetually interrupted people named Henrietta; and her best friend who was ex-military and ex-commercial fisherman, Ken. They gave me a donut, which was cool, considering that they probably didn’t have too much to give. Ken then told me that a catering company out of Deadhorse was conducting job interviews on September 3rd in Anchorage. What are the chances? Here I am thinking about working in Deadhorse, I leave Seward a specific time, and then on this day run into a guy talking about work in Deadhorse on the street. At this point I considered hanging around Anchorage until the interviews. I decided instead, however, to alter my itinerary and head up Parks highway first, go to Denali, then turn around and come back to Anchorage in time for the interviews. Well that’s what I planned anyway; this alteration of my itinerary changed many other things too, which will be discussed in the upcoming chapters.

After hanging out with the homeless people, I trekked on towards Glenn Highway, now Denali Bound (after Palmer anyway). When I got to the highway I had no success hitchhiking though. I hitched for a couple hours probably and could not get a ride. A bit discouraged, I headed back into the outskirts of Anchorage. I went to a park and sat down with some other homeless people who were sitting at a table drinking a 40. There was a guy with a dog, a middle aged white woman, a middle aged Native woman, and a middle aged guy with a wolf  T-shirt on. I sat there and kept to myself, wondering how I could engage these obviously troubled people. In the midst of my thoughts a Native kid of about twelve came up crying, saying how some guy hurt him. The guy with the wolf shirt went to go confront the other guy, who was a bald, aggressive looking man. The bald guy was trying to get to the kid, but the wolf man and others were preventing him and chewing him out. I sat there wondering if I would have to get involved. Apparently the bald guy was pissed because the kid ratted on him for stealing something from the 711, but he eventually got on his bike and took off. Shortly after the cops came and questioned the homeless people, threatened a 300 dollar fine for drinking in the park, and made wolf man throw out his 40. Wolf man sat there complaining about the kid, repeating phrases like “little snitch bitch” even though he had defended the kid — obviously a fairly conflicted guy. This event was just another to remind me of the problems of Anchorage.

I decided that I had better go set up camp in the backwoods of that park, so I set out looking for a suitable spot. There was plenty of room, but there were also other tents. I was hesitant to set up in this sketchy area, fearing that I might get shanked and robbed. Off the trail I met Joey, an older hippie guy with long hair and large rimmed glasses smoking weed and walking his dog. When he learned I was headed to Palmer he offered me a ride. I can’t get a ride on the main road, but here I get one in some random park! Anyways, we waited around a bit and then left. Once we got on the road, he decided that the traffic for Alaska State Fair (in Palmer) was still too bad, so we pulled off for a while to go to McDonald’s and walk his dog some more. As we walked he told me his plan to go to the lower 48 for a month and find himself a “chickie-gal” to bring back up to Alaska — a fairly ambitious plan, but I hope it works out for him. We got back on the road to Palmer after about an hour. We talked about weed a bit, he said it mellows him out and gives him the munchies, which is good for him because medical issues have affected his appetite. I offered him prayer for his medical issues which led him to talk about spirituality a bit. He said that he doesn’t kneel to pray, but rather talks to God on the trail. I told him that I am the same way, one does not have to engage in certain rituals  to connect with God; there is only one God, but He is a personal God that speaks and connects with His people in unique was.. We made one more stop on our way to Palmer, a park called hay flats. It was a small man-made lake with a trail around it –pretty nice, it reminds me of a city park in my hometown of Helena.

Once we got to the fairgrounds, we cruised around looking for a suitable camping spot and he gave me some advice on camping. Before parting ways, I prayed for his physical problems. He then wandered into the fair and I angled into the backwoods of the fairgrounds, trying to look casual with my large pack. Fortunately no one stopped me. I got back in the woods and found a place to set up my tent in waste high, wet grass — not ideal but it worked. I actually didn’t sleep too bad.