My Kinda Man
“We all carry so much pain around in our hearts. Love and pain and beauty – they seem to go together. One tidy, confusing package. It’s a messy business, life. Hard to figure. Full of surprises. Some good, some bad.” (Brand & Falsey)
Some say the lord works in mysterious ways, but I don’t buy that lord story. I do however, believe in karma, fate, but also randomness. Spread over my living room floor are three maps – two from triple A: “Alaska and Northwestern Canada” and “Northwestern States – Provinces” and a map that came with the bible of Alaska road trips, “The Alaska Milepost Plan a Trip” map. I love looking at maps. I love getting close in and discovering the nuances of a place and how that place is transformed from the one dimensional form to the third when and if one gets to visit. Notice I said “looking at maps”? Although I find them extremely helpful, I have the worst sense of direction of anyone I know. If I am completely sure that I need to be going in one direction; no doubt I need to turn around immediately and go in the complete opposite. Upon hearing of my upcoming trip, my daughter said, “So mom, maybe we should get you a GPS for Christmas?” Probably. I do not 'read' maps. But I do love looking at them. I think it’s the possibility of place that turns me on. The idea of going to the unknown, seeing someone else’s world, imagining a person’s life or culture; whether it’s that toothless waiter in the tourist trap at the Grand Canyon, or the smoking Buddhist monk in Schwedagon Pagoda in Burma.
I have also started a book collection for my trip. Of course, I wouldn’t dream of walking out the door without “The Lonely Planet Guide”, even though I still haven’t forgiven them for telling me a night time Mt. Fuji climb was a piece of cake. Since every Alaska roadtrip blog praises the “Alaska Milepost” I had to get that, although I bought the most current (2010) version, no doubt (and just to be safe) I’ll be picking up the 2011 after the first of the year. You’ve got to cash in on the freebies, but I was a bit disappointed when triple A only had one guide to offer, “Western Canada & Alaska”, but hey, it’s free, I took it.
So let the planning begin.
In conjunction with all the map looking and tour guide reading, as mentioned previously we also have the wonderful google to turn to if we want to be not only vicarious, but do some serious searching. Type in ‘how to drive to Alaska’ and see what you get. Apparently, thousands of (maybe even hundreds of thousands) drive to our 49th state every year, er, or should I say summer.
The first thing one must consider for any road trip is your vehicle. I drive a 1999 Toyota Rav 4. I bought it used in 2002 almost immediately after moving to Sausalito and out of my marital home. I was in search of reinventing myself as quickly as possible and after ‘creating my space’ in my apartment I looked at one of the vestiges of my old life and decided it had to go too. It was a beemer. Okay, it was a fourteen year old beemer, but you know, those things are classics. It was red with beige leather interior – a real beauty. It had to go. So on a complete and total divorce rage-driven whim, I cruised into the Toyota dealer in the beemer and out with the Rav. It was like going from eating bratwurst to sushi – my new ride had absolutely no balls, which I learned quickly on my first road trip to Utah. Talk about pedal to the metal. I literally chugged up those mountain passes.
I find none of this daunting. I have every intention of getting that car into road trip condition and cruising. I have obviously gotten used to driving around like an old lady. Ahem. At any rate, all of the blogs and books say that driving the Yukon Territory (oooh, what does that phrase do for your imagination?) and Alaskan highways are totally doable in any car that’s in good repair. So I’m off.
During one of my many online sessions with my new fantasy, I came across the inevitable hipster website. It was two guys and a woman all doing solo trips – I zoomed in on the gal. Her mode of transportation was a well-used, compact, American shit box. But the thing that really got me going was her mode of sleeping quarters. Everyone who travels knows that the biggest expense of any trip is where you’re going to drop your head every night. I was figuring on at least a hundred bucks a night for this trip as an average. But what this gal was doing set me on a whole different path. She tours Alaska every summer in her shit box that pulls one of these:
Well damn! I fell in love with the Little Guy. As the advertising says, “…all you need when traveling is a bed and a kitchen…” Right? I’m mean right? Who knew?
As in all love affairs, I’m in that beginning stage; our eyes have met, the possibilities seem endless: romantic nights spent together next to fast running rivers, camp fires in redwood forests, cool mountain evenings bundled together inside a sleeping bag. I am in major infatuation with my new ‘guy’. Admit it – you’re kinda jealous!
So I’m off on this side trip to my road trip. Buy or rent? New or used?
