I'm so glad I don't have to commute long distances anymore. Last night there was a get-together with the women in my cohort in Palmer, which is a good 47 minutes from "the city". Which isn't to denigrate "the city". It's the largest "city" I've ever lived in.
Most of us live in Anchorage but three of us live in The Valley (Palmer, Wasilla) and I explained it to S as: "the alpha lives in Palmer so that's why we're having the party there".
The drive was inky dark and I was tired from...I don't know what exactly. Really the last few days have been lovely. Yoga and chores and catchup on lectures. Dropping L off and picking her up and post-school Activities. When not listening to lectures on spinal cord injuries I've been listening to The Leaving Season which is beautiful and I highly recommend. And shards of McMaster's life seem familiar.
Driving from Muldoon to the highway in S's borrowed truck. The truck reminds me of my old white Ford F-250L. Secure if bulky; like driving a barge. This place seems saturated and I can't really talk to anybody about it. S would probably be the best person to talk to, but: things are still strained. Better, but strained. Drive past the restaurant where he maybe began to see L for the wiggly person she is. Past the bar where the first photo shoot I ever did for the burlesque company was held. I really haven't done for them since then. And that was a decade ago.
Merging onto the highway. Lots of deliveries to Eagle River. Trips to the dump. Trips to the Moving Arts Center for rehearsals. Trips to a house party concert where there was way too much high-school-like drama and I felt energized by the music and imagined a dance and live music collaboration. But all that really happened was whiskey and some paranoia. There are lots of houses on the hill behind Eagle River as you drive north and they look like stars. Beautiful but, much like Hillside, I can imagine how stressful it must be to deal with hills and snow and unmaintained roads up there in the 6-8 months of winter and that's a big no thank you.
From Eagle River to Mirror Lake. My dad went camping at Mirror Lake for a few weeks in the summer in the early 2000s. We visited on one of their trips up here with Sc back when we were dating. It looks reasonably like a mirror and has a playground, I hear. We should have gone camping here during the Summer instead of at the tents in Palmer. Much more child-friendly less isolating. Maybe next year.
From Mirror Lake to Thunderbird Falls/Eklutna. I like hiking Thunderbird Falls but never seem to make it down the boardwalk that takes us Goddess-knows-where in the rainforest canopy. We always just seem to make it to the falls and back. My first T-bird hike was with E on maternity leave for L. She was strapped in and we made it to the falls and back up a steep incline. (This was back when other women hastened to tell me I was a good mother and offer sage advice because postpartum is the hardest time. And it is incredibly hard and traumatic! And unfortunate that I'm totally incapable of asking for help even in the most of the most extenuating circumstances.) The most recent time was this past summer with L and M comprising the child part of the expedition and me and V the adult part. V said she usually hikes it in the winter when ice and snow make the incline a slick death trap that threatens a quick dump into ravine into rushing river on the left side (up) or right side (down). She said didn't know why she hadn't hiked it in the summer before. Me either.
Eklutna to the Knik Recreation Area. It's so dark. It reminds me of driving in northeast Texas at night but I don't put my brights on because I know it's annoying and moose seem smarter than deer when it comes to crossing roads. I've never seen a deer use a crosswalk, have you? The recreation turnoff is swallowed up in darkness even though there are other cars on the road. My thoughts turn to Israel Keynes and how this (I think) was where he turned off to finally dispose of Samantha Koenig's body the year I moved up here. In the daylight this part of the highway seems exposed, but I can understand how he got away with it now. Maybe the river thrums with a sinister tenor. Maybe not. Alaskan serial killers are a rabbit hole, though. Moving on.
Knik to Wasilla. Trips to T & V's cabin (although we weren't invited this last year - for the first time since we started dating). One trip to S's holiday party. One trip to see Fall foliage on the way to Sheep Creek. Camping; how many times? Trips to Fairbanks. One trip to home show. One trip to the reindeer farm. Two trips to The Butte. One trip to The Igloo for a boys handoff. One trip to the Mat-Su college for a neuroanatomy study group. Just: a lot has happened, dude.
Maybe that's my only point. A lot. Has. Happened.
Maybe it's no wonder I'm tired.
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