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July 25, 2006

I am pleased to announce that my car made the almost 700 mile trip to and from McCarthy just fine. Other than an insatiable thirst for oil - which I'll take care of before I leave for Alabama - she performed beautifully. I am feeling much better about taking her on my big road trip this winter.

Of course, 700 miles into the big road trip is only a little past Whitehorse in the Yukon Territory. 

Angela and I left Anchorage Thursday night, stopping to camp in Chickaloon. On Friday, it was another five hours of driving before we finally reached McCarthy Road.

The road to McCarthy is a treacherous one. I hear it's better than it used to be - but it's still a really shitty road.

Yeah, I know, it's spelled wrong.

Where the blacktop ends

Built on the remains of an old railroad bed that once ran to a copper mine, McCarthy Road is 60 miles of washboard riddled with potholes and old railroad detritus. It took another three hours to travel that last 60 miles.

The worst part for me was crossing the Kuskulana Bridge.

 

I have a horrible fear of heights - a fear made worse when I'm driving a car across a high bridge or on a steep mountain road. I know exactly when and where this fear germinated - but that's another story.

When I first saw the Kuskulana Bridge, I thought it must be some charming tourist relic from bygone goldrush days. As I got closer, I was mortified to learn that I had to drive across it.

I was unable to look anywhere but 20 feet in front of the car. No gazing out the window at the fabulous view. No easy banter. Only white-knuckled terror as I plowed across the one-lane bridge at 15 miles per hour and the heavy sigh of relief that escaped my throat upon reaching the other side.

Once in McCarthy, we had to find BMac. He was the man we had come to see. We had driven 10 hours from Anchorage to help him celebrate his 40th birthday - but had no idea where he lived. Luckily we found him in the first place we looked - the bar.

We later retreated to the homestead that he's been hacking out of the wilderness and proceeded to celebrate through the weekend.

Last of the McMillians

 

By Sunday, it was time to hit the road. We really wanted to stay an extra day but decided to get started on the long drive back to Spenard. We found a campsite near Glenallen that thankfully had showers. Four days of living in the woods with no running water had left me feeling like some damned dirty hippie.

 

 

 

July 19, 2006

It's week three of The Great Tequila Tsunami and I still don't feel any better. But at least I have a few pleasant diversions to look forward to.

This weekend is BMac's 40th birthday. The party is at his place in McCarthy - a small  Alaskan town I have never been to. Angela and I are driving out tomorrow night, stopping to camp for the night along the way, and should arrive in McCarthy early Friday. We'll be pitching our tents in BMac's yard for the weekend.

This will also be a good test run for my car to see if it's up for the road trip to Alabama this November

In addition, we got an call this morning from a good friend - Jocelyn. She's coming to Alaska next week and will be pitching her tent in our yard.

 

And then Spenard's summer social season reaches its peak with Sheila Wyne's 7th annual Studio Party on July 29th. Be there or be square.

 

 

July 11, 2006

Damn. You'd think a week of drinking tequila and listening to Nick Cave would've raised my spirits a little. But it hasn't worked yet. I guess I'll just have to stay the course.

I did get a piece of good news today. My old friend Michael is finally getting his college degree. We met back in 1985 when we were going to Muskegon Community College (which wasn't more than high school with ashtrays).

We weren't exactly stellar students. Most of our time was spent skipping classes and  hanging out in the cafeteria where we smoked, drank coffee and devised great plans.

 Over the years, we have shared wacky adventures from Los Angeles to Colorado to Seattle to Alaska to Chicago and across vast swaths of Michigan.

At the Woody Creek Tavern in Woody Creek, Colorado - 1993

 

Michael is currently driving from Chicago to Vermont where he will be picking up his diploma. He's taking the long way through Canada. You can follow his adventures on his blog: FattyFat Goes North

Congratulations, Michael!

 

 

July 5, 2006

This entry about how my boyfriend broke up with me has been deleted.

 After a popular website found the story and linked to it, the traffic was overwhelming. My attempt at catharsis has left me feeling even worse.

Short story: I was in love and he ended it in a really ugly way. My reaction only served to make it uglier. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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