ugh, 17 months to wait.
Picture of Denali National Park © NPS

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Last night, I got the two books that I'd ordered in the mail: The Milepost: Alaska and Alaska by Motorcycle, so I camped out on my comfy couch into the wee hours of the night, blissfully highlighting and marking pages with post-its and taking notes on mileage, road conditions, etc. There is, really, very little more I need out of life than fuzzy PJs, purring cats, a beer, and travel books.

This afternoon, I dragged co-worker Andrea to the local AAA for maps. I got a tour book and a state map of Alaska, as well as for Arizona (separate trip). Stephanie is swinging by Danger this evening, so we can go loiter in a coffee shop for an hour or so and spread maps out all over the place.

I'm getting ahead of myself again, aren't I? That happens when I get excited.

The rough plan so far is this:

Leave the Bay Area sometime in mid-June, 2004. Arrive in Bellingham, Washington 2 or 3 days later (~935 miles).

Take the Alaska Ferry from Bellingham, WA to Haines or Skagway, AK (we're not sure which yet).

Ride the Haines Highway from Haines or Skagway north to Haines Junction, Yukon Territory (150 miles from Haines; 170 miles from Skagway).

At Haines Junction, take the (in?)famous Alaska Highway northwest to Delta Junction, AK (~400 miles).

At Delta Junction, take the Richardson Highway northwest to Fairbanks, AK (~95 miles).

After some non-determinate time in Fairbanks, head south to Denali National Park(~207 miles).

...and then, finally, head back to Skagway (~900 miles).

I'm beginning to see why people ship their bikes to their touring destination, frankly. It's going to take us nearly a week just to get to Haines, what with the ride to Bellingham and the 3-day ferry ride. It'd be fun to ride all the way up to Haines, instead of taking the ferry, but I think my workplace might like to see some of me in June 2004.

It started to occur to me last night while skimming Alaska by Motorcycle that this really is a pretty big trip. I got that anxious, sort of scared, feeling in the pit of my stomach; you know, the feeling that you very well may be biting off more than you can chew. This is a very good sign -- without fail, every single time I get that feeling, it means I'm up for a challenge and an adventure and an accomplishment.

Peter recently asked me why I like travel so much. I don't know, really; how can one really describe wanderlust to someone who doesn't get it? It's certainly not restricted to motorcycle travel (though that type does make me happiest), and it's something I've had my whole life. I've lived abroad, I've been to four continents (probably around 20 countries), I've had a passport since I was 10. I don't think there are any really specific things I like about travelling which prompt me to do it; I think it's just what I want to do. Given a month of paid vacation, there's no question what I'd do. The only question is where I'd go.

I don't get to talk to people about my travels much. Most of my friends either don't have the money, time, or inclination to really go anywhere; honestly, it's usually a feat to get some of them to do anything besides sitting around and watching TV. That makes me irritable and restless. I like change. I like challenge. I like that feeling in the pit of my stomach that screams "what in the hell are you doing?" while my brain sings and laughs at the chance to do something new and exciting and maybe a little bit nuts. Maybe I just don't hang out with enough people who understand that about me.

So, yeah. I'm going to Alaska.