Hiking (Hitch or Otherwise) the Road to Enlightenment

"...Because the only people that interest me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing...but burn, burn, burn like roman candles across the night."
-Jack Kerouac

I boarded my flight to Alaska with two books in my bag, Jon Krakauer's "Into the Wild," lent to me by my good friend and astute businessman as of late, Roy Shanklin, and the Original Scroll Edition of Jack Kerouac's "On the Road," so graciously lent to me by my brother Ryan. Being that I recently read "On the Road" and that "Into the Wild" was required reading for my job, I began my summer of reading by diving into Krakauer's account of McCandless' travels. It made for a good, quick read and brought me to peace with the anxiety that was getting at me having just begun my own adventure. I was on a reading high and was excited to read "On the Road" as Kerouac originally wrote it. The Original Scroll has no paragraph or chapter breaks. It is one long unending paragraph and most interestingly includes the real names of the characters, rather than the Editor's required fictional names (for example, Dean Moriarty was the fictional name of Neal Cassady). I'm currently still reading it, although these days I hardly have any time to commit to reading with all the construction going on (we've been building the 12 room employee housing this week). I'm finding that the Original Scroll is difficult to read, being that there's no breaks. You don't know where to stop as the whole thing is one continuous stream of thought. there's no telling where Kerouac himself took a break in writing.

The result of the style used by Kerouac to create "On the Road" in its original state is one of immediacy and importance. Kerouac wanted to get it all down while every detail was still burned into his memory, a memory that was all too often scattered by drunkenness and sleep depravity. His lifestyle was not conducive to remembering, nor is mine, and I think the fact that I can relate to his immediacy is what is causing me to become more involved in the story this time around.

Before coming to Alaska I made plans to bring my recording equipment up here because I was hoping to create some music during my stay, as I was sure I'd be inspired unlike I ever have before, being in what I was told is one of the most inspiring places in the world. But its funny, although I have been inspired, I've never felt so uninspired to write music. With this sudden sense of clarity, being here and having my purpose (at least for the summer) so plainly laid out in front of me, I've been inspired, but in no way to write music.

I'm inspired to explore, and I'm inspired by all the people I meet who seem to appreciate the art of exploration as I've learned to. I've only had a few chances to get away and do some exploring on my own, but even on the tours I'm overcome with peace as I experience the changing landscape, the wildlife, my friends, the customers and all that Alaska has to offer even when I'm at work.

As I've mentioned in my previous blogs, Travis and I attempted to climb Sugar Loaf Mountain on one of my first days off. Also as I mentioned, we never quite made it to our destination, admittedly probably because of me, as I'm sure Travis would have never quit had we not separated, but none the less we were both completely satisfied with our attempt and felt no disappointment coming off that mountain. After all we had reached the peak of the range and walked the ridge, allowing us to see the the endless expanse of mountains beyond mountains, beyond mountains beyond mountains, and so on, probably all the way east to Canada. I commented to Travis that it was extremely humbling to gaze upon the nameless and perhaps mostly unexplored, but none the less immense and spectacular mountains. Could we find a peak that was reachable and previously untouched? Was there a mountain out there waiting for us to come and be its first chance at being conquered? I don't know but it sure looked like it when we stopped for those brief moments to catch our breathes (mainly mine) and took a moment to try and fathom the immensity of it all.


It should come as no surprise that reading "Into the Wild" and "On the Road" inspired me on an afternoon after a couple of tours to get out on the highway and do some hitchhiking. I've always wanted to give it a go and I had been told that Alaska was one of the easiest places to start. So after my morning shift was over on a beautiful afternoon I walked the mile down Otto Lake Road to the highway and put my thumb out and waited for my ride. My first ride was a pretty pathetic one to say the least. I sat there waiting for 15 minutes while my friends/fellow tour guides who live in the rail car near the highway watched on laughing at my feeble attempts to get a ride. What made my first ride so pathetic was that it was from the Salmon Bake's shuttle (the FREE shuttle for a popular bar & restaurant) which drops me right where I was heading. Even worse was that I had to tip my driver. I think paying for your first hitched ride kind of stifles the excitement. Luckily though my ride back was legitimate. I was picked up by a gentleman who worked in the Park as a helicopter pilot and was headed home for lunch in Healy. In 12 miles he told me all about his time spent in Alaska and his home in Florida where he came from and all the beautiful girls on the beach in their bathing suits, and how even though he misses THEM he has no regrets. I thanked him for the ride and the pleasant conversation and walked on down Otto Lake Rd. home, content with my first hitchhiking experience, despite the illegitimacy of my first ride.

walking down Otto Lake to the highway. You can see Sugar Loaf peaking over the closer mountains on the left.

Brian and Tim heckling me for "looking so gay" and my failure to get anyone to even look at me, much less slow down

Brian's Facebook caption says it best: "Some drivers looked like they might stop, but then they realized it was Joey and kept driving."

Last week I had my day off with my friends Chris and Ryan. I slept in and spent half the day sitting around on my computer and feeling pretty disappointed in myself for not waking up early and doing more with my one and only day off. Then Chris came in the house at about 2:00 and told me to put on my shoes and go for a ride with him somewhere to do something. With no real plans, going "somewhere to do something" sounded great because somewhere would have to be better then sitting here. So we picked up Ryan at the rail car and started South down the highway and ended up stopping near the entrance to the park where a bridge expanded across the Nenana River and a small sign read "Triple Lake Trail." Chris said he'd never done it but heard it was pretty cool and not overly challenging, which is always nice. The hike takes you up a pretty good climb for the first half hour or so where it flattens out and winds back into the valley along a beautiful tree covered mountainside. It extends deep into the valley, passing three quaint lakes. We took our time as we were in no hurry, and sunlight is in no short supply here, eventually returning to our car and stopping for a few beers on the way home. After the beers we started our way back home but didn't get far when Chris pulled to the side of the road and said we were gonna walk down to see some waterfalls. It's apparently called Dragon Fly Creek, and being just a little buzzed I stumbled my way down, laughing all the way and grabbing at the branches of the trees to catch me from falling on my face. It was a great time and the falls were a wonderful end to my day off.





It might be a shame that I don't get to go out and explore all too often with my work schedule being so hectic, but even so I get my daily dose of peace and reflection at the lake in my backyard every day and that can sustain me until my next adventure (perhaps hiking Mt. Healy? or if I can find a way to get out there, visit McCandless' bus? we'll see) and for that I am completely and utterly grateful.

Otto Lake, just steps from my driveway. You can actually see the ridge Travis and I ascended in the middle of the screen. we reached that first peak and followed that ridge left pretty much just to where it disappears behind that closer mountain.

Mt. Healy from my bedroom window