The Last American Frontier

The countdown is officially down to 15 days. Oh geez! I don't know that I'm totally prepared for what I am about to go do, but I'm getting there.

I was chatting with a friend of mine from High School when I was back in Chicago over Easter and was talking to him about Alaska. He was saying how he has thought for years that I was born a century too late. That I would have loved to be a part of the exploration of the US, traveling in wagon trains and exploring the untouched woods of the great west. He said that Alaska is perfect for me, it gives me that chance to stretch out the explorer in me.

The more I read about Alaska the more I hear people talking about it as the Last American Frontier. This is an arguable point, i realize, but all the same, its completely foreign to me. I don't just want to go to Alaska, I need to go to Alaska. I need to be 23 and do take advantage of the life that I have before me. I think there is something to be said for putting roots down and really becoming a part of some place specific, but for now I know I'm not ready for that. To put it proverbially, I still need to figure out what kind of soil I can grow best in.

Anyway, I've been trying to get in a bunch of paddling to get ready to spend a summer on the water (or at least that's where I think they are going to have me for most of the summer). Yesterday I was out paddling on the Minnesota when this awesome little beaver popped up next to my boat. He was awesome, we moved along in the river for a little bit together, me padding and he diving for something under the water and then he went on his merry way. Sometimes even on the rivers right along the highway you can find little treasures.