of 133 days

Sometimes you want to craft an elegant missive skirting around to a point. And sometimes you want to shout the bottom line at the start and work toward recovery and explanation. I think today falls to the latter.

I’m moving to Alaska.

With necessary elaborations and conditional statements. I’m moving to Alaska for the summer – 133 days to be precise. I have a unique opportunity to go work with Alaska Geographic running a visitor center on national forest land. And how could I say no? Glaciers, grizzlies, almost constant daylight. New birds, new trails, new everything.

DC has been a hard sell for me. I’m surviving the urban experience, but it in no way provides me with a fully engaging and healthy life experience. But I don’t want to give it up. Because it is exciting. And because Paul’s here. But I need more. Usher in Alaska to provide the balance to the scales.

Extreme urban in winter. Extreme wilderness in summer. …that’s the theory.

I’ve never been to Alaska. It’s always been this sort of mystical place in my imagination – stuck up there at the very top of our continent with its promise of being ‘the last frontier’. Will it live up to the high hopes I have for it? I can’t wait to find out!

Let the countdown begin to an 8-10 day drive across a fifth of our planet from the heart of DC through Canada (somewhere else I’ve never been) to southern Alaska that will mark the start of an indescribably intense adventure in nature. And to start wrapping my mind around this crazy reality, I’ve picked up a little bit of light reading:

bears
required Alaska reading

 

Cheers to returning to the seasonal life and following wherever the path may lead!

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of 133 days

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