Chillin' in the Last Frontier

That's pompous, douche-bag speak for "vacationing in Alaska". I don't mean to do it; really I don't.

Currently, as we speak, I'm lounging in the... lounge (a fitting name) of an overpriced hotel establishment in outside of Denali National Park, taking advantage of the mediocre Wi-Fi connection. Ever 2 minutes or so when I have to wait for a page to reload, I'll contemplate stealing some of the rugged, nature-based furnishings that are scattered throughout the lounge. As far as I know, the place never closes, And I'm sure it would take a good day or two before anyone noticed it was missing, and heaven knows how long I've pined for a Caribou antler lamp to give my dorm room that rustic touch.

And now there are old men looking at me. I hate when that happens; your eyes are wandering, and they happen to settle on something (or, more often in my case, someone) and then they look over to see you looking at them. And then you look away, trying to break the awkward and unwanted contact, but the roudy old men keep looking at you (because that's just the way old men are) and then it's supa' awkward. Little do they know that you are quietly consoling yourself by recording the entire encounter in your blog.

Alaska is amazing. It makes me want to cry a little to know that the earth and all her eco-systems were so perfect at one time. I saw bears, and moose, and foxes, and caribou. And the only human-made creation that connected me to their world was the bus I was sitting in and the gravel road the bus was sitting on.

I find that I've actually equally (if not more) interested in the vegetation that was in the park. There was a lot of crazy black spruce and birch growing all willy-nilly out of the sides of hills. There are wild flowers mostly everywhere. And when the ground is too frozen for trees there are shrubs and mosses for miles and miles. And probably more miles after that. The park is 5 million acres. Wrap your mind around that one.

The whole "feeling bad about being human, and killing anything and everything in the way of economic prosperity" was kind of dampened by a book by Douglas Adams called "Last Chance to See", in which he frolics around the world exploring the state and stories of various endangered critters. I love this book. If I could kiss this book, and the book would derive any kind of pleasure from my acts of adoration, then hell yes there would be one very bizarre make-out session going down. Right here. Right now.

It's nice to (finally) read something that so gracefully combines elements of humor, history, nature, and insight into 200 pages. Glorious. I won't ruin any of the insights for you, but it might just make you look at your own role in the world a little more closely. Plus, it's Douglas "Frickin'" Adams. You can't top that.