And In Conclusion, back in Talkeetna...

Overall, I have been thrilled by what I've discovered in this state.   Alaska really has appeal.  For those who appreciate rugged nature and peaceful isolation it seems to say, "Come visit.  Whether by boat..

or by plane...

or by car...

we'll find a spot for ya!

Can't wait for my return!

Onward to Homer, Alaska!

About 7 miles outside of Homer, Mae at a local Tesoro gas station showed me how to fill the propane tank of my motorhome:  "Now that I've shown you how to do it, realize that you'll probably never do this yourself.  Most dealers who sell propane would never allow an RVer to fill his or her own tank.  We do it for you.  That generally allows all of us to go on living our merry lives.  So, hon, where you from?"

And so I met Mae.  Originally from Michigan, Mae found herself living in the deep woods near Anchor Point, Alaska.  "Been here for the past 9 years solid.  I live totally off the grid.  No water, no electricity, no nothun except one of those coal miners head lamps.  But this past winter?  Well, I may have to just break down and get me some heat.  It was just a bit too much."

She said she was 42, but - sorry, Mae - she looks 60.  Life off the grid in Alaska can be hard on a gal I guess.

Welcome to Homer!   About 7 miles outside of the town limits the fog came from out of nowhere.  This scene was at the "Welcome" sign and normally is a place of beauty, overlooking the bay.  Could hardly see 5 feet ahead most of the highway into town.

But suddenly it cleared, and once I'd swerved past slow-moving moose, I was in a quaint town that seems intent on rebuilding it's history...

and becoming a haven for hippies and the New Age generation:

and along Homer Spit, some businesses boom...

while others decline...

Annie, Diane and a Grown Up Named Corey

WALK INS: $18 HAIRCUT

I'd stopped to admire the car, but the invitation for a haircut posted across the parking lot finally captured my attention.  I'd not had time to get my hair cut before leaving Houston, and now it was at that point where it was driving me crazy.  I sauntered into the "salon".

Annie was a tall blond I guessed to be about 32 or 35.  Diane was a cute, pixie-ish girl of 28.  Annie was tint-dying a client; Diane was finishing a milk shake at the register, waiting for a client to walk in.  Hello!

"Just a standard, traditional cut: close on the sides, longish on top.  Add some to the bald area please."   Yuck, yuck, yuck and off the three of us went on a gab-fest.

  

Annie: "Where are all the men in this po-dunk town?  I can't find a man anywhere!"

Diane: "Oh, Annie, you just try too hard."

Annie: "Maybe it's too late for me.   How old do you think Diane is?

Joe: "Mmmm...27?"

Diane: Wow!  Good guess.  I'm 28.   Who old do you think that old blond is over there?"

Joe: "mmmm...maybe 32 or 35?"

Annie: "I want to marry you!  I want to marry you!"

Diane: "Great!  She's 42.  Now I'll have to listen to her carp on and on about how youthful she looks.  With a face like an old shoe, she thinks she looks youthful just because you said she thinks she looks like 35.  Do you know how hard you've made it for me?  She'll be all: 'I'm Penelope Cruz.  I'm Miss Amy Adamms."

Annie: "Well, I just wish I could fine me a man in this town."

  

On and on for the next 5 minutes (didn't take long; I don't have much hair).  When I left I got a chorus of "Thank you and please come back soon." from the two stylists while the matron in the next chair rolled her eyes and just laughed and laughed.

==============

Sunday morning.   I'm up really early and ready to shove off to Homer.  I have a long day ahead of me, so I didn't make coffee at the RV site.  Safeway Starbuck's isn't open yet so I decide on a cup of McDonald's coffee and discovered a whole new world:  did you know that McDonald's includes folks who are challenged in its hiring practices?  Is that the politically-correct term?   I don't frequent McDonald's so I didn't know that.   Anyway, just before 8 a.m. I met Robert, an apple-shaped, harried-by-existence store manager who reminded me of the cartoon character in Alice in Wonderland who waddles around fretting about "being late for a very important date".  Busily behind him was Corey, a physically challenged kid who apparently steps up and comes to his rescue rather often.  

Robert: "Oh, hi.  How are ya?   What'll it be?"

Joe: "Just a coffee and a bran muffin please."

Robert:  "Oh.  Uh-oh.  A coffee and a bran muffin; a coffee and a bran muffin...

Corey (bleary-and-red-eyed as he hobbles over): "I got this, Robert.  You go check on the English muffins."

Robert: "Muffins.  Muffins.  Right.  I'll check on muffins; you get this guy."  Robert waddles off.

Corey (sighing): "Almost time for my shift to end."

Joe: "End?  It's not even 8 a.m."

Corey:  "I started at 11 last night.  What a night!"

Joe: "I didn't know McDonald's is open 24 hours  You look kinda young to be working a night shift."

Corey: "Not really.  I just turned 16.  But these nights sure are aging me fast."

Joe: "Lots of interesting people?"

Corey: "It's not generally too bad.  But last night a lot of drunks.  Had one come up to the drive-thru window and demand food for free.  Didn't want to pay for it."  

Joe: "So what do you do?  Call the cops?"

Corey: "Cops?  No.  You just learn to handle them.  You gotta be careful though.  Never know when they're carrying.  Like last night.  We just tell him that there is no free food; he has to pay.   He starts going off about there should be free food all across America.  I take over from the girl at the window.  She gets scared.  Not fair she has to deal with them.  And the drunks?  You just start sliding the window very slowly closed.  Not too fast; they get excited.  If he takes out a gun, I have to use the window lock and beat it away from the window.   But he eventually calmed down.  He ended up just walking away mumbling and complaining that paying for food wasn't democratic.  But I'm really beat this morning.  I'm glad my shift is over."
Joe: "Well I'm glad it ended well.  I hope you have better nights."

Corey: "Oh, this wasn't bad.  It just gets old very quickly.  Next weekend it'll really be wild.  The drunks all come out for the holiday weekends.  Start drinking mid-week and don't stop until Tuesday.  I feel like I'm getting to be an old man fast."

From out of the mouth of a challenged but quite capable 16 year old!    And so I left Corey to prepare for the end of his shift and the beginning of the rest of his life. 

God bless the very, very good people of Soldotna, Alaska.   My heart goes out to you!

The Beautiful Citizens of Soldotna, Alaska

See that Starbuck's logo?   Get yourself in there.  You might just get lucky and met Michael and his 11 year old daughter.   Never did get her name.   Just her wisdom.   The Starbucks cafe abuts the exit of one of the grocery lines.  Forty year old and chubby, Michael and his happy-go-lucky daughter Maddie (made that up out of the initials for "Michael's Daughter") had just checked out of the grocery line.   He caught my eye and nodded at me while I was working on my blog.  We struck up a conversation.   Turns out that Micheal is a single parent, divorced from his wife who now lives "...somewhere in the hellish bowels of Alabama".  He got custody of his daughter because "...my ex is "...too busy finding herself a rich plantation owner.  That's okay though because this little girl makes me a most blessed man."   We talked about what I was doing in town (drinking Starbucks for hours and hours???) and how someone should hook up with the RV parks to offer kayaking and river-fishing lessons to the yuppie RVers from the city.   Long and short of it, Michael gave me his number and offered to teach me both "...next time you come passing through when the weather is a bit warmer."   We got to talking about all sorts of "Solutions To The World's Ills" and somehow, after about 20 minutes or longer, we ended up very briefly on the subject of Sarah Palin.   Michael backed off and pointed rapidly to his daughter.  She reared up at Palin's name and scowled: "She's not only ignorant, she's a total phoney. We all know that."  I made the mistake of rebutting without thinking: "Well, I can't believe that she was able to fool you people up here in Alaska for so long."  To which Little Maddie correctly, astutely and promptly responded: "Well, you Texans have your Governor Perry, so there."

Whoa!!  You go kiddo!   She had me on the floor with laughter.  She explained that all the kids her age take an active interest in their Current Affairs class at school.   I left Starbucks that day in Soldotna, Alaska filled with more hope for the future than in a long, long time.    

Perhaps we'll meet again one day, Mr. Michael and "Maddie".   In the meantime, thank you both!

And fifty yards from Safeway/Starbucks, sharing the same parking lot there is a McDonalds....

...and in this McDonald's there works the most compelling person I met when I visited Soldotna, Alaska.

=========
"Hey, let me know if you want a refill and I'll get it for you."

I thought I'd made a mistake in coming in to McDonald's; there were so many young kids; teenagers.  But I wanted to continue working on my blog,  and I felt I'd overstayed my welcome at Starbuck's and I'd heard that McDonald's has free WiFi.  So I waddled on over and ordered an unwanted cup of coffee just to have an excuse to sit and use their internet. 

Dillon is a busboy at McDonald's.  Bespecled and built like a reed, he seemed like a typical average-looking "nerdy-type" teenager.  I'd not really noticed him except from the corner of my consciousness he seemed popular with a few girls when I first walked in.  His offer of a refill was upbeat and friendly, and I was immediately impressed by his outgoing personality. 

"I normally don't come in until later on Saturdays, but they called me at 8:30 this morning and asked me to come in.  I guess everybody just had to have McDonald's pancakes this morning.  What a mess too! I hate to say anything bad about minorities, but some of those, you know,  Hispanics.  Well, they just never clean up or take their trays away." 

"You know?  I really don't like working here.   It's been 4 long years.  I can't believe it's been that long.  But where else can I go?   I used to work at Subway, but it was boring.  At least here the clients are nice and I get to talk to them if it's not too busy.  I can probably get you some cookies for free too if you want."   I declined.

Something seemed "off".  Then I saw a series: first, his pants were all kind of askew.  Sort of like how someone dresses when they have cerebral palsy or other muscular dysfunction.   Then I saw the slight limp in his arm and his leg.  I congratulated him on how popular he seemed with the girls.   He beamed, but then said:

"But I really don't have time for them.   I'm not gay.  I just have to really focus on my studies.  I'm a junior in high school now, and I have to take my studies seriously if I want to get out of here.  I've worked here a long time.  Each pay period, I keep $20 and give the rest to my grandparents.  What do I need the money for?   I give my grandparents the rest to help with food and living costs.   I live with them.  They take care of me and I give them money.   I worry about them.  My grandmother is disabled and gets a disability check from the government.  She can't work.   My grandfather is retired from the railroad.   He gets some kind of retirement pay; I don't know exactly what.   But he's just old and kinda run down.  They've taken care of me, and so I give them all my money other than $20 a pay check.  I keep that. I don't need it, but I keep it.  I don't have dates; I just work and study.  One day maybe I'll go to college.  You know I'd like to go to college and get a degree so I can get outta McDonald's.  I hate it here, but there's no other place to go like I said before.  Who's gonna hire a kid like me?  But if I can save my money and go to college, maybe I can get a better job and help my grandparents more.   They always appreciate my giving them money.   They always say they're grateful, and they're happy when I give them money.  What do I need it for anyway?"   I detected sadness in his voice, but also a fierce desire to convince himself that everything was okay and that he'd get ahead somehow in the future.

We talked about scholarships and how so many go begging for recipients each year: "Yeah, my teachers told us about that.  I think if I can keep my grades good, they'll help me find money to go to some kind of college.  I worry about my grandparents though.  I just hope they'll be okay.  Maybe I can go someplace close by.  I need to start saving money for college.   Last week I got all my money stolen at school.  I had $44 saved up. You know how I knew someone stole my money?  I suddenly felt my wallet was in my front pants pocket.  That's  how I knew.  I opened my wallet and all my money was gone."

He said that in a matter-of-fact manner.  No self-pity.  As if it really didn't matter, and that he'd recover from it.  My inclination was to reach into my own wallet and pull out a few $20's, but I had a very distinct impression that such an act would have confused and upset him more than the original loss.

"It was the first time that's ever happened to me."   Some other kids came by and tapped him on the arm as they passed, acknowledging his presence.  "I'll be more careful.   It just happens.   But it's nice to come in here and meet people though.  And they treat me good here.  They appreciate me; even call me all the time when they need extra help."

We talked about his plans for college and how lucky he felt to be needed.  Then we parted.  He had tables to clean.  "Good luck with your trip.  Have lots of fun."

I ended up learning a lot about Dillon and his life in Soldotna.  But in the end, I left with the disquietude that comes from having more questions raised than answers: Where were his parents?  What happened to them?  What were his grandparents doing with the money that he gave them?  What did he really feel about the loss of his $44 savings?  What does the future hold for Dillon?           

Onward to Soldotna and Excitement!

South of Anchorage, the terrain suddenly changes.  The highway closely hugs the side of a mountain on one side and then train tracks and a sheer cliff on the other.  Beyond the cliff is a shallow bay that is part of Cook Inlet.  It's as if you were in the fjords of Scandanavia.  See?

And you see those train tracks?   Well let me tell you something.  Bug-eyed tourists from the cruise lines pay big bucks to take a ride in a snazzy yellow-and-black train along those tracks.   I know b/c I saw them from the comfort of my temperature-controlled motorhome while sipping my coffee and munching on a bear claw as they drooled hungrily.  So long, bug-eyed and drooling tourists!!   Ha, ha, ha, ha!  Life is good in an RV!

And the train don't go where I go, so the cruise line tourists don't see what I see.  See?

You know when you're in Soldotna when you come to Oldie's Bead Shop.  It's the "Happenin' Place" in Soldotna ...

...that is, other than the Starbuck's Cafe which is located inside the Safeway grocery store.  Now that is the "Happening Place"...

It was here that I met the first in a series of remarkable citizens of Soldotna, Alaska.   They are indelibly etched on my mind...

Palmer

Good bye, Valdez.  After Valdez, I decided to head on down to Palmer with an ultimate goal of exploring the Kenai Peninsula.  First stop: Palmer.  Palmer is about 15 town blocks.  Very clean and neat town.   The RV Park is at the end of a street and right at the base of a mountain.  Hello:

The day's drive from Glennallen to Valdez back to Glennallen and then to Palmer was ridiculously long but I definitely had the energy for it.  I'm used to long drives (ask my siblings in Florida or NC) but tonight I just read a book, watched the sun setting on the mountain and crashed at 10 p.m.   Naturally, it was still light.  It seems like the sun never sets here during this time of the year!  
  

What A Ride to Valdez!

Without doubt, today's ride to Valdez provided the most jaw-dropping and spectacular scenery of ANY road trip I can remember.   It started with an In-Your-Face 'Hello':

 And just continued as I climbed to altitudes over 3,000 feet and found myself surrounded by mountains of pure snow that came right up to the sides of the road.  The girds along the road are for the snowplow crews to know where the road winds.  This part of the drive was mind-boggling; I thought I'd been transported to the Alps in deepest winter.   I really, really wish you could have been there to see it:

But then before long the road would plunge precipitously and I'd find myself in a deep, deep gorge surrounded by rock and waterfalls of melting snow.  This one is named Bridal Veil Falls:

Finally, I arrived at Valdez Sound.  Valdez is a small town of perhaps 12 total city blocks and a fishing boat harbor.   It's surrounded by snow-covered mountains on 3 sides and Prince William Sound on the south.  Here's the sound.  Isn't it purdy?:

I bummed around the town for awhile, stretching my legs and seeing the sights.   We're talking all one-story shacks here.   But it was sunny and warm and the fresh halibut lunch was excellent.

Okay, so that's it for Valdez.  I don't give it justice in the pics, but it sure is a picturesque (sp?) spot, and I hope to come back one day soon.