Outdoors/Adventure

Bike the Denali road? Yes. Bachelorette party in ANWR? Yes. This summer, it’s hard for Alaskans to say no to anything.

When an unexpected opportunity arises these days, my decision-making criteria goes something like this:

1. Is it fun?

2. Have I missed doing it?

3. Can I rationalize spending the time and/or money required?

I’ve been saying yes a lot.

Example: Last weekend, I embarked on what I’m calling a Franken-trip.

It started when an old friend whose time is precious messaged me about biking the Denali Park Road. This was months ago, and she suggested blocking off a weekend. An entire weekend, the two of us! Bonus: She’d never been in the park, much less biked it.

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Internally, I went through my checklist: Yes, this would be fun. Yes, I missed going on — logistically easy — adventures with friends during the last year and a half of COVID-19 precautions.

And, of course I could rationalize spending the time and money. Was it the responsible thing to do? Not at face value, but I could move some money around to make myself feel better.

I said yes.

Then, a friend invited me on a bachelorette trip to the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. A full 10 days! In the Arctic Refuge! The only hitch: I’d need to learn how to do this thing called “packrafting,” but surely that could be arranged.

Enter the checklist: Fun? No doubt. Had I missed doing it? Well, no, because this is a trip that falls squarely into “bucket list” category for me. A reason to say yes. Could I afford it, time and money-wise? ABSOLUTELY NOT. I’d have to take at least some unpaid leave from my primary job. (Related news: Our house is available to rent via Airbnb this summer!)

I said yes.

A friend-of-a-friend offered a sweet deal on a semi-rental, letting me essentially borrow a packraft for a month for both practice and the trip for an unbelievable $100. When I dropped off the envelope of cash I’d picked up from my bank, I mistakenly handed over my ID to him along with the stack of $20s.

The summer mania was setting in. A friend who is renting a house near Denali offered to teach me to packraft. I called up friend No. 1 (with the bike trip weekend), and asked if we could drive separately so I could stay an additional day with friend No. 2 for packrafting lessons. She said of course.

Then a work opportunity came up in Fairbanks for the Tuesday after my packed weekend. Initially, I had a flight booked for the trip. But then upon investigating rental cars in Fairbanks, which are just as scarce as anyplace else, it dawned on me that I should cancel the flight and just keep driving north from my Denali weekend.

I made a mental note to pack a set of nice clothes and non-Croc shoes and keep it somewhere in the truck safe from all of my dusty, muddy gear.

My review of the Franken-weekend?

The bike ride into the park was on-point. The powerful sub-Arctic light, what I call “movie light,” was in full force, interspersed with the big, roaming puffy clouds that expand and enhance across the seemingly limitless landscape. The crunch of our bike tires across the road brought us into new viewshed after new viewshed, seeing winding rivers from on high and then up close.

In the evenings, we sat on the deck of our adorable Airbnb near the park, sipping cocktails and catching up on life. It was the kind of quality friend-time that marks a moment in life — I’ll always look back at it as a contained, lovely experience in the time capsule of a little corner of Denali.

The following day, we parted ways and I set off to meet up with my friend who was teaching me packrafting. She brought a couple of friends and the four of us trekked out on an ATV trail on the side of the Parks Highway, chatting about the basics and safety as we went.

My friend was an excellent teacher, and despite my limited experience on the water, I ended the 15-mile float feeling comfortable and competent in that grade of water — basically flat, but hey, I avoided banks and other obstacles, and I got adept at slowing down, stopping and this thing called “maneuvering my boat in the direction I intend to travel.”

Finally, I pointed my car north once again and drove toward professionalism. I found a shower and my clean clothes, strategically buried under the seat in my truck cab, ran a comb through my hair and showed up for work. I was happier and more grounded in an office setting than I’ve felt in a long time.

I look around me and see the same wide-eyed and maybe a little off-kilter glint in other Alaskans’ eyes. Summer up here is always a manic swing after the depths of winter, but this summer in particular we are collectively going hog-wild. Midnight sun festival? Yes. Backyard barbecue? Yes. Impromptu trip up whatever highway, to XYZ destination? Absolutely.

I am enjoying the frenzy, and sleeping when I can.

Alli Harvey

Alli Harvey lives in Palmer and plays in Southcentral Alaska.

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