The Last Frontier

In 2016, my friend/co-worker/roommate went to Alaska for a work trip. She spent ten days tagging along with one of our remote co-workers who resides there, exploring small towns and big, empty expanses, and came back brimming with awe and a newfound passion for the wild, largely uninhabited 49th state.

In March of this year, she approached me with an idea.

“Let’s go back.”

“Huh?”

“Let’s go back to Alaska. Lets go back.”

Initially, the price tag associated with a round trip ticket buzzed in my head and I waffled back and forth, both mentally and physically as I rocked my head from left to right at the suggestion. Not to be deterred, her eyes widened and she flashed me a smile, pitching: “Think about how great Alaskan Amber Ale would look on Cat Drinks Brews.”

Damn. That was a good point. I took the bait.

“Fuck it, let’s go to Alaska.”

And today, we are going to Alaska.

Our flight departs at 5:20 pm, it is 12:03 pm, and I’m sitting here in a bathrobe trying to review what I have yet to pack and what I am most definitely going to forget. Our flight takes off from DC -> Seattle, we have an hour layover, then we have three and an half hours to Anchorage, before an overnight layover, followed by a short 45 minute plane ride to Cordova, where we will hang out for a few days before we begin the rewound reverse series of connections.

We’re hoping for good beer, good salmon, and good sights. I don’t know what to expect, but if I don’t see a moose I will scream.

I should probably get back to trying to remember what I will forget, but hopefully the follow up will be a plethora of great pictures, great stories, and the adventure of a lifetime.

Alaaaaaskaaaaaa

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