11.8.11

anchorage, bikes, and my 70 liter rucksack






I am in anchorage and caught a ride up in a four door, brand new truck. she picked me up after three minutes with my thumb out and several days alone in the rain and was going all the way.
'you aren't some serial killer are you?'
'not yet.' i said, and we were off.

Despite that i've been known to stay up late, walk slowly, and make coffee at bedtime, I am a morning person. my last night in kenai i was in bed before nine, but not wanting to be that sort of person, i got out again and built up a bonfire with the pallets we'd used as chairs as tables and as cuttingboards. It was large and i ate corn out of the can. I talked loudly with myself and read franny and zooey until the rain put out the flames. When i was let out in anchorage, it was at a local and traveler's cafe. the kind that warms the feet and where there is a busle and volume like a skier's hostel in the alps. the kind of place where you get cocoa and plum dumplings and meet people with names like Chim. People would walk into this place and 'Hey, it's good to see you.' not even the middle aged women or workers wore makeup, and people left their laptop computers when they went outside to make a call or elsewhere.



I would have stayed a while, but there was salmon thawing in my 70 liter backpack on the chair opposite the table, and i had two friends to see. I've become acquainted with the city. taken long walks on its trails and seen many of the lakes. we went on a 50k ride and i wore a helmet! about 20k in and at the end of the only (small) climb, we made friends on top of a bluff and shouted down to the people drawing in the sand with their feet.

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