Q: When does 49 equal 50?
A: When a guy visits Alaska (49th State admitted to the Union) to complete the mostly circumstantial feat of spending at least one night in each of our 50 United States.
My one night in Anchorage began with a 70-mile drive, always the riskiest part of any flight. I escaped the interstate with my life, encountering only one short delay when a tractor-trailer tipped into an irrigation ditch on one of the back roads I take to avoid traffic and tolls.
At the airport, waiting for my flight to depart, the sky erupted in lightning, thunder, and a torrential downpour. The aircraft scheduled to take us to Alaska had departed New Orleans a few hours earlier and had to wait out the storm in a holding pattern southeast of the airport. I wondered if the hold might result in a diversion and a long delay, but a few turns did the trick and delayed their arrival by only a few minutes.
Impatient Louisianans disembarked. Alaska-bound travelers boarded, and an on-time departure to Anchorage seemed imminent.
But wait. The gate agent received notice that a wheelchair-bound passenger, who had arrived on a red-eye flight from Atlanta at 0600, eight hours prior, had had somehow gotten stranded on a faraway concourse. This particular airline flies to Anchorage just a few times a week. Missing this flight would involve days of delays and great inconvenience for a disabled traveler.
In the interest of fantastic customer service, as well as respect for the ADA, all 200 of us waited for this poor soul. Right about push-back time, the dude strutted up to the gate minus the much-advertised wheelchair or an apparent care in the world. To his undeserved credit, he did thank the gate agent for her contribution to his unfocused agenda. A subsequent conversation with a flight attendant revealed that his long layover had included an extended tour of several airport bars. The source of the egregious disability claim remains a mystery.
Thankfully, the ensuing 5.42 hours passed with no airborne disturbances. The aircraft door opened at Ted Stevens International only seven minutes behind schedule, after a scenic flight over the Canadian Rockies.
A half-hour ride to the hotel left about nine hours to eat and sleep before I had to get up and head right back to where this whole adventure began. A smart man would have ate and slept, or maybe just slept. Like the old saying goes, “I am not a smart man.”
What to do with these few precious minutes of free time?
Just across the street, I could see and hear the roar of The Backyard Country BBQ, starring Sara Evans, Easton Corbin, Scotty McCreery, and Lainey Wilson. The music sounded great and the food smelled fantastic, but I can listen to music and splash BBQ sauce on my clothing anywhere.
Moving on, I encountered the first permanent building constructed in Anchorage:
Surprised by the relative youth of the oldest building in town, I moved forward toward my main goal: finding a roll-aboard-friendly memento of this excursion suitable for presentation to my wife as a gift.
Normally, I would look for some kind of Christmas ornament, maybe a small moose silhouette decorated with an “Anchorage” inscription. The city has a summer population of about 250 moose, increasing to around 1,000 in winter. Sadly, about 100 succumb to car crashes each year. People occasionally get stomped, sometimes to death, when interfering with moose business. Revenge, in my opinion, for the giant taxidermic moose on display in the airport center court.
My chances of finding an ornament depicting a moose-stomping seemed slim, so I was glad to run across The Alaska Art Alliance Gallery, where I found this small carving:
According to the shopkeeper, the carving depicts the close connection between Native Alaskans and seals, as well as various folklorish or historic accounts, tales, legends, or myths (take your pick; I don’t judge) centered on that relationship. I liked the sculpture for all those reasons, as well as the portability. The cashier wrapped it up for me and then directed me to the back of the store, a workshop where several Native Alaskans labored patiently over various works of art. Check out the Alaskan Art Alliance Facebook page. They do good work at this gallery in many ways.
Treasure in hand, I found my way back to the hotel, encountering only one distraction along the way:
Heading back out to the airport at 0430 next morning, we rounded a curve and spotted a giant bull moose looming in the street-side shadows. After we passed by, he trotted into the road. I crossed my fingers for him and the occupants of the next vehicle to round that curve.
Six hours later, contiguity and afternoon thunderstorms loomed in the windshield, but we experienced no arrival delays. With that mission complete, I have finally set foot and, most importantly to me, slept in all fifty of these United States of North America. I will always treasure the freedom we have to experience such happenstances.
Next week: back to Atlanta.
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