Homeless again

After taking advantage of Maura’s living room for almost a week (thanks again!!), we have finally moved on. On July 2nd, we packed up all our stuff, did final cleaning and laundry, and said goodbye to Homer. We headed out in the late afternoon (we have a habit of doing that…) and drove to the town of Girdwood where our fishing friend, Zack, told us there was a great forest fair from the 3rd through the 5th. We decided we’d get there early, beat the crowds and secure a fantastic camping spot. Unfortunately, when we arrived we were told that camping was not allowed at the fair grounds until the next day. Unsure of what to do, we asked where we should camp. The security told us of an old mine that had been converted into a campground just a few miles away.

We headed down a dark windy road towards the campground. The road was a good indication of what was to come. The Girdwood mine campground is possibly the sketchiest scariest campground in the world. Two very shady men occupied the first spot we passed. They had no tent, just a big white van, and they stared at us as we passed with their eyes darting suspiciously all around. The next spot was filled by a family that I’m pretty sure had come to Girdwood a few years ago and decided to just stay. There were toys scattered everywhere, a bundle of kids frolicking about, and the tent appeared old and weathered. It was actually quite sad—the kids seemed quite content, but it was hard to watch the scene once you noticed the parents passed out by the fire surrounded by beer cans.

The rest of the campground brought more of the same. There were old rusting RVs with tires seeping into the ground from years of disuse, elaborate swings and tables built into the surrounding forests. Had we entered some sort of Alaskan shantytown? When the security suggested we stay at the campground, did he mean a permanent camping community? Whatever it was, it was terrifying. We sped out and tried to come up with plan B.

But first, dinner. We took out a few pounds of halibut and set up the kitchen at the most beautiful highway turnoff. It was a little beach nestled between an ocean inlet and the mountains. We cooked up the cheeks, which are supposed to be the most delicious part of halibut. And they are!! They have a similar consistency of lobster and taste like the ocean. YUM. We made the most delicious fish tacos ever.

After spending a few hours eating and playing in the sand, it was nearly 10:30pm and we still had no place to sleep. We headed to Chugach National Park to see if any campsites were available. They weren’t. In retrospect, we probably should have planned a place to stay for the 4th of July weekend.

We discussed the possibility of trading halibut for a corner of someone’s spot. We then started off down logging roads looking for a flat spot. It was late, we figured we could set up camp, wake up early and leave before anyone realized we were even there. Apparently the rest of Alaska had the same idea. Whenever we thought we had found a secret spot, there’d be a tent perfectly tucked away from the road.

We continued our search, wasting gas and starting to panic. Defeated and approaching midnight, we all thought, why not just sleep in the car? We pulled over by portage glacier. We hung scarves on the windows to block out light and any potential passersby. After a brief debate about differences in dogs and humans and the possibility of dying in our sleep due to lack of oxygen, we agreed to crack a window even though it let in thousands of mosquitoes. We pulled out our sleeping bags, reclined the chairs, and went to bed. Sophia took the driver’s seat (she can sleep anywhere), I got the passenger’s seat, and Rachel took the back. It was a long night. Sophia swears I fell asleep, but I would argue I did not.

The next morning we drove away and headed to the nearest gas station. Oh, how easy it was to revert back to our old ways after being spoiled in Homer.