Long Haul Chicks Tour - Prologue

This is actually being written in early August 2005, as I prepare to upload the posts from my drive from Pennsylvania to Alaska a year ago September. This is by way of introduction.

Some time I might post the daily log from the trip the year before, when I left my home here in Alaska and drove the route east alone. That trip log is mostly a terse, strained account of miles achieved, with a few comments here and there calculated to give the impression I was handling things well. There was so much I wasn't saying - how I wept every day as I headed into the morning sun, certain that east was not the direction I was meant to go. How sometimes those tears turned into shaking wailing sobs. How I wrestled with my soul. How heartaches upon heartaches had broken me until I felt that my only chance to exist meant abandoning my one safe place.

I drove hard every day, I kept my eyes straight ahead, I thought compulsively of my personal safety every moment, I saved every dollar I could and drove those 4400+ miles without so much as pulling through a McDonald's for coffee. Though there were moments that I sang at the top of my lungs while driving in moonlight, I couldn't ever really fully relax. But oh, how my friends tried to help me with that. Jude in Calgary got me a luxury hotel suite. Marilyn in Minneapolis took me for long walks in autumn leaves. Phyllis and Anne shared all the comfort food Wisconsin could offer. Lenette turned me over to the hands of the tallest masseur I have ever seen...and those are two hours of my life that won't be written in words anywhere.

And I was proud of myself at the end. Though I was driven somewhat by desperation, I was also self-reliant and I was prepared, and I did something not every woman would do by herself.

Eleven months later, as I prepared to make the drive back home by myself, I had a fleeting thought and I emailed Phyllis. I told her simply that when I pictured the drive home, I saw her in the shotgun seat of my tiny little car. She said simply okay.

[She did tell me later that she had a bad back and she was a terrible long-distance traveler. I determined points along the route at which I could put her on a plane home if I had to.]

An unexpected turn in the story was when my brother Matthew in Idaho had a heart attack. Suddenly our plans were diverted another 800 miles and a few days, to hug the brother I'd last seen on my wedding day in 1984.

We still pushed hard. We still kept our wits about us. But there were stops to see important things, and stops just for the sake of stopping, and there was companionship and love on every mile of the road. And so it is a much different story.

I'll ask Phyllis to share her remarks too, and will include them as posts rather than bury her words in the comments. It's been interesting to me to read these again, and think of what happened each day that we selected to share, and what small moments went unchronicled.

And although there really is no place like home, I find myself thinking today that I wouldn't mind doing this again sometime. And I know who I'd want in the shotgun seat.

So let's hit the road.


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Phyllis adds:

Actually, when Peg e-mailed to say she saw me riding shotgun on this trip, I immediately wrote back and said "OOOOOHHHHHH that could be arranged." Needless to say I didn't actually think about sitting in a car for that long. But it sounded like so much fun I wanted to go. Most people who go to Alaska fly and thus miss the Alaska Highway, and here I had a chance to go with someone who was paying for the trip and who had experience on this particular road. But still....

Why on earth would I say no? In January, my dog Fred was diagnosed with anal sac cancer. He is my baby, my heart dog, my therapy dog at the Children's Hospital. I live 10 minutes from the vet school in Madison, WI, with a nationally-known oncology department. Fred's Children's Hospital therapy program was created by the vet school and I know many people there. I decided to bite the bullet, empty my savings account, and treat my baby. Treatment - surgery, radiation, and chemo - was horrible, but he survived and is still doing well. It all worked out, thankfully, but I warned Peg that if he popped up with a recurrence even 24 hours before we left, I would not be going on the road with her because I'd rather stay home and have every day I could with him. It must have been very unnerving on her end - "I have a traveling companion unless her dog has a cancer recurrence." But she didn't say boo about it.

I have no clue as to why people think it's odd to vacation with someone you know mostly from e-mail. Peg and I have met in person before - twice, as a matter of fact, including staying at her house while on a prior vacation to Alaska. But still, sitting in a car for days on end with someone you know from e-mail appears to daunt some people. I have no idea why, unless you have a bad back. Peg is exactly the way she sounds in e-mail. She is exactly who I thought she was (except she has this thing against fast food, unlike me) and I knew we'd be fine.