Any Terrain Vanquishing

Alaska is the land of a million wonders. A massive, unspoiled swath of land some 663,00 square miles. Denali National Park is located more or less in the south-central part of the state, two hours south of Fairbanks and somewhere around five hours north of Anchorage. Mile 239, where I have made my home for the past two months is home to two year round human residents, a plethora of animals, and a budding mosquito metropolis. Few people actually live in Mile 239, affectionately called "The Canyon". The Reeves' own three cabins and an airstream trailer behind their shops where all of us non-Alaskans reside.

Working in a gift shop here can be likened to working in the commissary at an assisted living center. 95% of all patrons are collecting Social Security and the 5% that aren't are forcibly dragged here by those who are. Because the median age is skewed so steeply, it comes as no surprise that the most popular activity is not hiking, kayaking, backpacking, or anything one would usually do in a park, but riding an animal stalking bus.

Realizing they are going deep into the depths of a so-called unconquered wilderness, these bus riders come fully equipped. For none of the hiking they end up doing they buy a pair of top-notch Gortex hiking boots. Because a normal pair of jeans just won't cut it, they buy the best lightweight waterproof hiking pants. To protect their bald or balding heads from the sun that peaks through the windows of the bus they buy the latest in floppy, well ventilated hat technology.

Essentially 99.9999% of the tourists that come up here come by train, are deposited at one of the few resort-hotels, bussed to and from various busses, and end up leaving by train again. The only area where the tour leaders trust these specimens to roam free is mile 239, home to several gift shops and tourist traps.