Into the Great Land

 

Something seems different.  Perhaps I feel strong because it was a short 41-mile day.  Maybe the clear skies and crisp air are pricking my senses.  I guess it could be the fresh pair of TCK Slog Series that I just pulled over my cold feet.  Like cleaning out one’s ears or the morning’s first stretch, the initial feel of new TCK socks is orgasmic.  No, the strange disparity in the air is more likely rooted in the fact that I have finally entered the Great Land on this epic Slogfest Boreal.


This morning, I pedaled on through Beaver Creek, the last outpost in the Yukon.  There, a hearty breakfast was welcome, and I fought with an Eskimo statue over a staff.  Then, bypassing Canadian customs, a long ten miles of horrible road occasionally forced me to get off the bike and walk.  Finally, I saw the sign I had been waiting for:  “Welcome to Alaska.”


I napped right there on the 141st Meridian.  My feet were in the Yukon, my head was in Alaska, and a warm sun was overhead.  Even now, ‘tis a fond memory.


American Customs was
easy, and the fellows there were extremely courteous and friendly, not what I am used to when coming back into the States from abroad in Newark or Chicago.


Truly, this is the Great Land.  I can feel it; I can taste it; I can smell it.  Tomorrow, it’s on to Tok and into the Interior.  I’m glad to have a few good pairs of socks.























-Jesse Boyd

 

Saturday, August 15, 2009

 
 

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