Florida to Alaska

I think I first fell in love with Alaska when my plane was preparing to land in Anchorage my first trip up for the Iditarod. That was in March of 2000. I came here from Florida, so the scenery was simply mind-boggling and, as I look back, I was probably hooked even before I landed.

Most of my friends figured that out long before I did, of course. They kept asking when I was moving. I kept replying that I had no intentions of moving. Heck, I really had no intentions of ever visiting again when I got on the plane that first time. I came for the Iditarod's Teacher Workshop, but fell in love with Alaska. I had no clue how that simple decision to fly to Alaska, something completely against character for me, a person who'd always played life so safe, would change my life.

My only real knowledge of Alaska at the time, aside from what I could glean from Internet friends, was from Gary Paulsen's "Woodsong." Who'd ever have thought that I'd not only one day meet him but have Gary as a friend. I sometimes feel like I should pinch myself, that maybe I got someone else's dream and it's all a mistake. BTW, when I told Gary it was all his fault I had moved to Alaska, his response, said with a grin, was, "Oh, no, another life I've ruined!" Yet, it was his genuine love of this state and how it shone through in "Woodsong" that initially enticed me, even it some six years would pass between my reading it and my first jaunt up here.

Skip forward to December of 2003. I've essentially given away (or Ebayed) most of my "stuff" in Florida and am boarding a plane with my two dogs to fly to Alaska to stay. Obviously, there's lots in-between, including a couple years of lurking on the Alaska Living list, but it's a move I've never once regretted. I love this place.

I went from being the total cheechako, arriving in Alaska my first trip in serious need of a shopping trip to ensure I didn't freeze my butt off, to living in a wonderful home here in Wasilla. Right now, I'm cheering every leaf that falls for that means I'm all the closer to getting back my "all direction" mountain views, even if that is a bit of a stretch. I own a snow blower, one of my first purchases after some basics like, oh, a refrigerator. I own another very important Alaskan machine, too, the Mosquito Magnet. Okay, there is one thing I don't like about Alaska, the mosquitoes.

I also own a retired sled dog. Okay, let me rephrase that. I am owned by three dogs, that's Foxy shown in the photo, one of which is a retired Iditarod dog. I've ridden a sled behind a team of dogs. I've fallen off of a sled being pulled by a team of Iditarod dogs. I've stood on frozen rivers and lakes. I've stood in Nome and on the Iditarod Trail, sensing the ghosts of history that passed there before me. I've marveled at how Denali can hide herself so well, then suddenly appear in all her majesty. I've traveled to places I never knew existed and have simply been in awe of the beauty of this place, not to mention eyeballed a mama moose and babe in my front yard. How cool is that, that a basically shy, stay at home from Florida can come to Alaska and do something like that?

I'm rambling but it all converges together at some point to mean that, if I can do it, anyone can. I'm not an outdoor type, I'm a natural wuss, and the entire thought of shoveling snow leaves me "cold," pun intended. Yet, you adapt. Alaska is what you make of her. I'm a better person for being here. I've learned things about myself that I never knew, done things I would have never dreamed of doing in Florida. I'm the Iditarod's "official reporter." I mean, come on. Me? The wuss from Florida writing for the Iditarod? This is the place dreams can come true and even exceed expectations.

True, Alaska demands more of me, she doesn't tolerate mistakes well, but I can't imagine living anywhere else at this point in my life. I love this place.