N 59°36'02"
W 151°24'31"
I have recently set my own record for furthest distance from home. Homer, Alaska lies on the tail end of the Kenai Peninsula, and yesterday I woke up, hit the road with my thumb out and made it to Homer just after lunch time. This is how it went down...
I headed out with the 7:30am crew for shift change yesterday, so that I wouldn't have to make the additional hike of 1.5 miles just to reach the Sterling Highway which is almost spitting distance from the Contact Station. Soon after the pit stop at the Russian River Contact Station, I took to the highway. The Sterling Highway is a two lane highway that runs all the way to Homer, the end of the line. On the long stretches, the solid lines turn to segments to allow for the faster traffic, and this highway does not exactly have room for pedestrian on its narrow shoulder. Occasionally, perhaps every 1/2 mile to 1 mile, there is a turn off loop on the side of the road. The trick to hitchhiking is that you want to give your potential ride the opportunity to pull over without stopping traffic, so these turn off spots are essential. But the for a good 3 to 4 miles, I hiked down the road with but only a few nibbles. Nibbles are very discouraging because your hopes go sky high when they slow down or pull off, and then, they fall at terminal velocity when they continue on or turn around in the pull off (only to turn back around later down the road, I know this because I recognized the same car about 5 minutes later passing me by). That double back lateral fake out happened a couple of times. It was a buzz kill.
Anyways I reached this Fuller Lake trail head a few miles down the road, and this is where I got my first pick up. A nice couple driving a late 90's pickup truck with one of those truck bed campers on it. David and Jennifer were their names. David did work with the power companies up here during the summer and has a residence to claim, but him and his family live in Minnesota for the rest of the year. David was relatively quite, but Jennifer liked to talk it up. We exchanged the common questions. I asked them about their lives here and elsewhere, and they responded and asked me the same questions. Jennifer had a really sweet, calm Alaskan folks-ie tone of voice much like Governor Palin. They were heading to Kenai (the city) to do some dip-net fishing, so they dropped me off on the edge of the big town of Soldotna, Alaska (this is the town that we go to buy groceries and whatnot, it is 45 miles west of Cooper Landing). From the west edge of Soldotna, I hiked another 2 or 3 miles down the road until a got picked up by a teenage girl with her mother and aunt in a compact car (hey a ride is a ride). They actually passed me once and doubled back to pick me up (I thought I reconized the car), but they weren't going too far down the highway. But that stretch knocked out a good ten miles or so. Anyways I'm now in the small of town of Kasilof, Alaska, and this is where I got my final ride into Homer. A foreignor driving a Homer taxi was headed there, so he gave me a lift. He had a very heavy accent with a raspy voice and a thick tongue that muddled anything coming out of his mouth. I didn't understand much of what he said, but he didn't change me. And I did thank him for the lift.
At 2pm, I set foot in Homer, Alaska, a hundred and sixteen miles away. For someone who has never successfully hitchhiked that is a very considerable distance. I went down Pioneer Ave to check-in to the Homer Hostel, but check-in was not until 5pm so I toted my burdensome back around Homer with me for the next couple of hours. And first things first. I needed food. A lady at the Homer Chamber of Commerce recommended a small place called the Cosmic Kitchen about 5 blocks down from the Homer Hostel. That was the next destination where I achieved a small thanksgiving style of satisfaction in their Big Bang Burrito. I think I earned though. After the feast in burrito form, I began to check out the sights of mainland, downtown Homer. I made it down the street on the Homer Bypass and stumbled on to the Alaska Island and Ocean Visitor Center. The Visitor Center was run in association by U.S. Fish and Wildlife, National Wildlife Refuge System, Alaska Fish and Game and the National Oceanic and Atmosphere Administration. At first it seemed to be some kind of glorified public Alaskan aquarium, but it turned out to be a public exhibit hall on various Alaskan history relating to the state's natural resource most notably, the wildlife. It was at this very moment when I have never been further from home, a familiar face recognized me. A guy named Michael recognized me from the Russian River Campground; he had come in before a few times to the Russian River. Only a mere 116 miles away from where we know each other, and we meet again. Michael told me that he actually goes to UGA in the fall semesters only cause he considers it the only semester that is worth attending. So we shot the shit about various UGA/Athens topics (bars, Greek life, location of housing off-campus and the always fun, who do we both know). Anyways we exchanged some contact information and promised to regroup back in the Lower 48. After a little of wondering around, I stumbled into the Homer Bookstore (there might be only one), and a week or two ago, I was taking with a guy working for U.S. Fish and Wildlife about the common trees on Kenai. We eventually got to talking about identifiaction of these trees, and he suggested a book called Alaska Trees and Shrubs which was co-written by a professor he knew. When I was in the Homer Bookstore, I found this book and thumbed through it. It was a well put together guide outlining the flora of Alaska. I would have bought it had it not been $25. At this point, it was 4:40pm. Time to head back to the Hostel and take a much needed shower. After a longer than ten minute shower, I felt like nearly half a million bucks (you quite feel like the whole million up here when you shower only once a week give or take a few days). Now following the revuniation of a shower after a long day hitchhiking, I took to the streets again to make my way to the famous Homer Spit. I first took a small detour to the beach to get a few pictures, but after that it was all business. The bay is surrounded by jagged mountains covered with white powder and a handfull of glaciers visible from just about anywhere on the spit or ever Homer as long as you have a good vantage point. The long and slender peninsula is 4.5 miles from beginning to end, and from the Hostel to the start of the Spit is at least a mile. I decided to walk their after my pilgrimage to Homer eariler this morning. Probably not the bet decision, but I didn't come all the way to Homer and not see the Spit. So I hoofed the 5.5 or so out there which was a really nice walk (even better if I had more energy) that was lined with rows of Lupine in full bloom along the paved walkway adjacent to the Homer Spit Road. Even though my feet were screaming for me to stop, I pressed on towards the end of the Spit. Occasionally stopping in stores to do a little window shopping, I came across a store called the Time Bandit which is referring to the fishing vessel the Time Bandit from the popular show on the Discovery Channel, Deadliest Catch. Apparently the in the off season, this is where the Time Bandit resides, and sometimes Captain John Hillstrand is around. But he was not there when I was and neither was the Time Bandit. She was out of port, but afterwards I made my way to the most popular bar on the Spit (or even in Homer for that matter). Salty Dog Saloon is this rinky dink little bar near the end of the Spit, and it is the only place in Homer to stay up and get drunk at. No other bar stays open as late as they do, and this idea of serious drinking is comically portrayed in a bumper sticker that says "Homer - A quaint little drinking village with a fishing problem." The bar had a low ceiling with relatively narrow doorways. It was dark with tons of accumulated novelties on the walls and ceiling. Almost every inch of the entire bar was covered with pinned up $1 bills with writting on them from past visitors to the bar, usually dated with locations or insightful words written on them. And there was so many $1 bills that I literally cannot fathom even a ball park guess as to how much money is on the walls of the Salty Dog Saloon in Homer, Alaska. Anyways I came in sat down at the bar and had a couple of local brews from the Homer Brewery which were in recycled Sobe bottles with a Homer Brewery label on them. Don't know how they fanagled the copyright laws on that one, but an innovative idea none the less. With only a large burrito in my stomach from lunch and two Sobe bottle worth of Homer beer, I began to make my way back down the Spit just before midnight, but I didn't have walking in mind. I got picked up twice, and the second guy literally was driving right by the Homer Hostel.
In the morning, I awoke just after 7am to enjoy the feeling of a hot shower at the beginning of the day. I made it just next door to get a little something to eat before I threw together some postcards and stopped by the post office. Now the journey back to Cooper Landing only 116 miles to go.
My first pick up was just 2 or 3 miles down the road. An older gentleman (in his mid 50s) from Oregon who lives up here now picked me up while he was on his way to Anchor Point, the next town, to stock up firewood for the winter. From Anchor Point, I walked another mile to two until a couple from Idaho gave me a lift almost all the way back to Cooper Landing inside the Kenai National Wildlife Refuge, a good 20 miles short. Their names were Brandon and Lisa, and they were on their way to Skilak Lake to camp. So here I am in the middle of nowhere, and I was hoping to God that someone picks me soon. After another couple miles of heart-ache hitchhiking, a got a ride from by far the most interesting characters of the trip. A father and son who were named Bill and William respectively were cruising down the Sterling Highway in this old shity camper van, and they were actually gold prospectors from Alaska. They offered me cold water, soda and/or beer. They were really interesting, nice guys that gave me a lift all the way to the campground. I only spent maybe 20 minutes with those guys, but they were by far the most interesting of all the guys who picked me up.
So this was my first experience getting rides from strangers in Alaska, and it wasn't a bad experience. I actually loved it. It was very exciting and liberating, and now I can say that I've hitchhiked in Alaska. Not everyone can say that.
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